What Lies Beneath
by Chrmdpoet
Summary: When Regina becomes curious about the two notebooks constantly tucked under the Sheriff's arm, she vows to discover their contents. Doing so, however, leads to a much deeper discovery-the discovery of a side of Emma Swan she had never even known existed; a haunted past, a complexity, a talent, and a beauty unlike anything she had ever expected to uncover. Rated M for content.
1. Chapter 1: Follow Where You Lead

**Just a few things to cover before we dive in: First, this story is set in post-curse Storybrooke. *Does not follow the timeline or current plot events of the show, though* Second, this story is VERY angst-ridden, but will also be heavily romantic as it develops. Trigger warnings for mentions of rape/physical abuse/self-mutilation/depression. Rated M for such content, possible language, and future sexual content. And last, this story will also feature quite A LOT of poetry; so if that isn't your thing, then you may not enjoy this story. *All poetry used within this story is my own original work and IS COPYRIGHTED.* With all that being said, let's give this a go then, shall we? I hope you all enjoy this, and I will be grateful to hear your thoughts. XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter One: Follow Where You Lead

Regina leaned into the railing of the dock, the ocean breeze spilling through her in gentle waves that eased her rocking soul. She closed her eyes, dark lashes fluttering gently to hide melted chocolate orbs, and breathed it in. She let it wash through her senses as she imagined herself weightless and free, drifting along the easy tide of the calm, quietly lapping sea. She let it fill her empty heart with promises that only her imagination could keep, vows of escape from the darkness ever swirling in her veins, escape from herself.

When the memories of her past became much too overwhelming to bear, when the bitter loneliness that throbbed in her chest made her broken and restless, Regina always escaped to the dock. There she felt free to dream, free to pretend she was not the Evil Queen, free to pretend she was not a monster, free to pretend she was loved, to pretend she was cherished. Just free.

She usually found herself quite alone there, the area serene and untainted by any presence but her own. Today, though, she found she was not so alone. Heavy footfalls sounded from behind her, beating rhythmically against the wooden planks of the dock. Regina's eyes fluttered open once more as she turned toward the sound. Her vision was met with the sun-soaked and glowing gold of Emma Swan's long, curling locks, and the sparkling emerald of watchful eyes.

As their gazes met, Emma stopped in her tracks and offered the brunette a small smile. "Hi," the blonde said simply with a light shrug of her shoulders.

"Sheriff Swan," Regina acknowledged with a curt nod. "What brings you to the dock today?"

Emma shuffled her feet a bit as she glanced around, squinting her eyes against the bright gleam of the sun as it reflected in a sparkling shine across the ocean's surface. "Just needed a bit of quiet," she answered. "I was headed down to the beach, but then I saw you down here. Thought I'd see how you were doing."

Regina continued to be surprised by the Sheriff's thoughtfulness where she was concerned, though this certainly wasn't a new development. Since her curse had been broken nearly two years ago, she and Emma had had a very complex relationship. It had begun as mistrust and at times, even rage. It then slowly changed and evolved into a sort of unspoken understanding as they mapped out their differences for the sake of their shared son, whom they had eventually fallen into an easy routine with, a strange yet comfortable kind of co-parenting that seemed to suit everyone involved. From there, it had grown into a mutual respect of sorts, and perhaps even an unusual yet welcomed kind of friendship. Emma showed her many kindnesses, seeking her out in public to offer her coffee or simply ask how she had been. They shared a weekly dinner with the two of them and their son, and the conversation always seemed to flow rather easily. They had become quite comfortable with one another, simply two women who shared a son, despite not really knowing each other beyond the surface. Emma saw Regina as the regal, composed woman who was the former Evil Queen, the former mayor, and the forever mother of her son; or at least that is how Regina assumed the Sheriff saw her. To Regina, Emma was the uncoordinated and often endearingly bumbling woman who was the birthmother of her son, the daughter of her former enemy, and the prophesied Savior destined to break her Dark Curse.

"I'm well, thank you," Regina answered kindly, "and yourself?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," Emma answered with another shrug.

They stood there simply staring at one another, silent and still for several long moments. Regina studied the Sheriff, noting the small hint of sadness in those deep, green orbs and wondered if Emma had come here, as she had, for an escape of sorts, though she couldn't imagine what the blonde would have to run from. Her eyes then instantly shot to the two slim objects tucked tightly beneath Emma's left arm and her lids narrowed. As always, the sight of the notebooks had the former queen's curiosity instantly bubbling to life. She had first noticed them shortly after the curse had broken and everything in Storybrooke had calmed from the initial panic and chaos, though once she had thought on it, she realized she had seen the Sheriff with the notebooks on several occasions long before the woman had any belief in fairy tales or evil queens or saviors of any sort. Now, though, it seemed she rarely saw the blonde without them, and it only made her curiosity burn brighter.

Regina thought, perhaps, that the notebooks functioned as a sort of diary for the blonde, and though she had absolutely no clue as to why and honestly did not want to invade Emma's privacy, she desperately desired to know the contents of their pages. Curiosity had always been a weakness of Regina's. Once her intrigue had been stirred, she had a difficult time letting go, if she was able to at all. Seeing Emma carry the books around with her nearly everywhere she went, constantly hovering protectively over the pages as she would jot a few things down before snapping the notebooks shut and carrying on with whatever she had been originally doing, drove Regina's curiosity wild. Were they just thoughts? Feelings? Documented accounts of things that happened? Were there things about Henry in there? Were there things about _her _in there? She ached to know, ached for just a peek at the notebooks' mysterious contents.

"Well alright," Emma said with a long sigh, shaking Regina from her thoughts as the brunette glanced back up to stormy emerald eyes, "guess I'll leave you to it, then. Have a good day, Regina." With that, the blonde turned on the heels of her knee-high leather boots and made her way heavily from the dock.

"You too," Regina whispered, unheard, as she watched the woman go, her eyes glued once more to the slim books still tucked under the Sheriff's arm. Her growing curiosity about them only made her realize just how much she didn't know about the blonde. Emma Swan was a mystery through and through, an enigma that Regina's curious mind just had to unravel.

* * *

For nearly two weeks now, Regina had been very subtly tailing the Sheriff. She would follow Emma to the beach and stand nonchalantly on the dock while she watched the blonde through her peripherals, the woman seated silently atop the sand and scribbling in her notebooks as she stared out over the grand expanse of the ocean.

Regina would sit in her parked car, a healthy distance from the Sheriff's station, and watch through the massive glass window of the building as Emma sat at her desk and alternated between the computer, the phone, and pen and paper, though Regina could never quite tell if the woman was working on paperwork or writing in those damned notebooks; she opted to assume the latter, however, given her memory of the Sheriff's aversion to paperwork and inability to ever submit it in a timely manner when Regina herself had still been Mayor of their sleepy, little town.

She would follow Emma to Granny's and sit quietly in her usual booth some distance from the blonde, spying on the woman over a cup of coffee and a newspaper. Emma occasionally jotted in the notebooks while there, though she mostly only shoveled unhealthy amounts of grease into her body while joking easily with her friend and waitress, Ruby, or with Henry who frequently accompanied his birthmother to the diner. Many times, she would glance up to find the Sheriff looking straight at her. Regina would fight the blush that threatened to rise in her cheeks at having been caught as she reminded herself that Emma had no idea that she was actually watching her, let alone following her. The blonde would smile softly at her before returning to her writing or her food.

Regina had been hoping that at some point the woman would slip up and leave the notebooks behind or open to view so that Regina could have a reason to find them and return them, after taking a peek at their contents of course, but she had had no such luck. Emma was obviously rather protective of the notebooks, which only made Regina that much more determined to see. It had been nice to have something to focus on again, something to occupy her mind and her time, but with nearly two weeks of no success under her belt now, Regina was seriously considering giving up on her little mission; however, that idea quickly faded with a sudden new and surprising development in the Sheriff's routine.

The former mayor and queen sat quietly on the front porch of her grand and empty mansion with a steaming mug of coffee cupped tightly in her hands as she was surrounded by the chill of the early morning air, the sun just beginning to peek in the distance. Regina had always loved to watch the sunrise. Dawn had been her favorite time of day for as long as she could remember, even in the Enchanted Forest. As the colors spilled through the ever-lightening sky and painted it with rich reds, yellows, and oranges, Regina imagined the light flooding over the canvas of her own life, painting her anew with each day. It was a calming experience, an inspiring one. It filled her heart with renewed determination each morning to go out and face the day, to face those who despised her, those she had long sought to destroy; those who would never allow her to change, never allow her to be more than her past.

This morning, however, she was distracted by a sudden stir of movement disturbing the usual quiet stillness of a Storybrooke dawn. She caught the flash of golden locks and a jarringly red, leather jacket that she would recognize anywhere. That definitely sparked Regina's intrigue as she was certain she had never witnessed Emma Swan out and about before at least nine, and certainly not on a Saturday morning such as this, and even then, the woman was still a bit grumpy, requiring at least three cups of coffee before being able to fully function. The former mayor watched as the Sheriff darted along the sidewalk, seemingly unaware of her watchful gaze, and of course, Regina could just make out the faint outline of Emma's notebooks tucked in their usual place beneath her arm. She watched as the blonde quickly turned the corner just opposite and to the left of the mayoral mansion and made her way toward the woods.

_Wait, the woods? _Regina's brain ripped right through curiosity and spiraled into obsession. She had to know what the Sheriff was up to. She quickly shot to her feet and flicked her wrist. Her silk pajamas were instantly replaced with one of her typical fashionable pantsuits. She may no longer be the mayor, but she had a certain image she liked to maintain, always the perfect picture of power and control. She flicked her wrist again to rid herself of her coffee mug before taking off down the street after the blonde, though she kept to the shadows that had yet to be devoured by the early morning sun.

Emma made her way onto an overgrown and nearly hidden dirt path that wound through the vast stretch of woods that surrounded Storybrooke. Regina kept close behind, treading as lightly as possible so as not to be heard, as Emma unknowingly led her along. After several long minutes, they came upon a clearing, a sprawling meadow of sorts tucked beautifully away in a part of Storybrooke few ever ventured to. Regina had been to this clearing many times in the past, as it had been a wonderful place to hide away and think, a place to allow her emotions free reign, a place to allow her composure to break unseen. Much time had passed since her last visit, though, and she honestly could not figure why. Perhaps, she had simply become too caught up in the dramatic turn her life had taken once the very blonde she now followed came storming into her town with a spiteful Henry in tow. It seemed only yesterday that they had been enemies, and now they were…well, Regina really had no clue as to what they were, though a part of her sincerely hoped they were at least somewhat friends, a hope to which she would never admit aloud of course.

Regina stopped at the edge of the clearing, ducking behind the trunk of a rather large tree just off the path as she watched the Sheriff dart forward. Emma strolled through the tall grasses of the clearing and made her way over to a single, small tree that sat in the center of the meadow, its crooked and oddly disfigured branches hanging over the shadowed portion of the ground upon which the Sheriff now sat. A strange sensation, much like sorrow, much like guilt, fluttered in the brunette's chest as she realized that something was intensely off about the blonde, a tension dancing in the air of the woods around them as Emma sat her notebooks to the side and pulled her knees to her chest. She dropped her head into her hands and in only seconds, Regina noticed the movement in the Sheriff's body. She was trembling, shaking, and that was when the brunette heard it. A heart-wrenching, guttural sob ripped up from the blonde's throat, a sound that simultaneously shocked Regina while sinking straight through her flesh and tearing at her heart.

Emma was crying.


	2. Chapter 2: The Icy Floor

Chapter Two: The Icy Floor

Emma was crying, and not only crying, but sobbing openly.

Regina had never seen the woman painted with such sorrow. In fact, she had only ever seen the Sheriff cry once and that had been the day that the blonde had broken her curse with a kiss to their dying son's forehead. But this…this was so much _more_. The blonde just seemed so utterly broken, so deeply destroyed, and Regina could only imagine what would lead the woman to weep in such a manner.

The former mayor's heart clenched fiercely in her chest as her own eyes stung with tears, the sounds of Emma's sorrow, of her pain, washing over Regina like a flooding rain of fire, melting her insides. She was shocked by the desperate desire that sprang to life from deep within her, the desire to go to the Sheriff, to ease the woman, to comfort her; the desire to hold her. It was something she had never really thought on, though now that she was considering the broken woman before her, she realized that she rather cared about Emma Swan. She cared about her much more than she had ever taken the time to realize, and maybe that is what kept her rooted to the ground now despite knowing that the blonde was in the middle of having a very private moment and had obviously come here to be alone, to cry in peace. But Regina simply could not move. She was captivated by Emma's grief, mesmerized by her vulnerability. So many emotions now warred within the former mayor that her own body trembled with the weight of them, and she found she would not leave even if she could. She found that she truly just wanted to be with Emma in this moment, even if the blonde was unaware of her presence.

Regina watched as Emma finally lifted her head and pushed back the cascading tangles of blonde that had tumbled around her face. The tear tracks marring her fair cheeks only made Regina's heart clench tighter in her chest. She desperately wanted to know the source of the Sheriff's pain. She felt as if she was on the very precipice of an abyss of secrets, Emma's secrets, and Regina was surprised to realize that she wanted to know them. She wanted to know each and every secret swirling in those glistening emerald eyes. She sighed as quietly as possibly. When had she developed such feelings for this woman? She was completely blindsided by them now, though she wasn't about to deny them, at least not to herself, not in this moment. In this moment, she only wanted more; so she waited and she watched.

Emma sighed heavily before drawing in a ragged, hiccupping breath and reaching for the notebooks she had set to the side. She flipped open the one on top and took out a black pen that was lodged in the spiral binding. She cried even as she wrote, the pen moving feverishly as Regina watched. Every few seconds, the blonde's pen would still as her emerald eyes clenched tightly shut to prevent the onslaught of fresh tears, small groans and aching moans spilling through her sob-soaked lips. Tears now openly fell from Regina's eyes as well. She was helpless to stop them. She felt as if she was drowning in Emma's sorrow even from a distance, even without knowing the source of the woman's pain. The sight and sounds seeped into her and clutched at her heart, spoke to her very soul. She recognized the desperation, the ache, because Regina was intimately familiar with such sorrow, the kind that lived so deeply within you that no matter how you tried, you simply could not dig it out from within. She could relate in so many ways, on so many godforsaken levels.

After several long moments, Emma's pen stilled with finality. She let out a heavy sigh of relief as she slipped the pen back into the spiral binding and slid the notebook to the ground once more. Regina watched as the blonde wiped her cheeks and fanned her flushed face before running shaky hands through her golden curls. She shook her head several times as if trying to dislodge the thoughts that danced within, as if trying to shake away the sorrow, before the blonde gathered the notebooks in her hands and made to stand. Just as she was rising, though, the shrill ring of her cell echoed through the clearing and the Sheriff jumped with her surprise, the notebooks slipping from her hands as she fumbled to catch them with no luck. She sighed as they fell to the ground and just stared at them a moment before reaching into her back pocket and retrieving her phone.

"Sheriff Swan," Regina heard her answer. "Whoa, slow down, what? Well, shit, was anyone hurt?" Regina quickly pushed further into the shadows of the trees as the blonde sprinted toward her, back toward the path from which they had come. "Okay good. That's good. Yeah, I'm on my way. I'll be there soon." Emma rushed past her and the former mayor thankfully went unseen as the blonde took off down the path and back toward the waking town.

Regina sighed heavily and reached up to wipe away the tears that still lingered on her cheeks. Her eyes quickly shot back to the clearing, though, as sudden realization washed through her, a realization that was instantly confirmed as her gaze zeroed in on the two notebooks left abandoned in the clearing at the base of the tree where Emma had been sitting. She had never seen the Sheriff leave the notebooks behind; then again, she had never seen the woman so flustered with her emotions before either. She must have simply gotten caught up in the adrenaline induced by the call she had only just received. Regina, unable to help herself, darted quickly from the woods and practically sprinted toward the crooked tree in the center of the meadow.

The notebooks sat sprawled atop the dewy grass, one of them open from its fall. The brunette quickly bent to retrieve it as she felt less guilty about reading it considering it was already open. At least that's what she was now telling herself despite knowing otherwise. Truthfully, she felt guilty about the entire situation. When she had left her porch in pursuit of the Sheriff this morning, she had never expected to follow the woman into such an intimate moment of despair and even upon realizing as much, she had been unable to make herself leave. She had seen a vulnerability she knew Emma would never have shown her willingly, and the guilt of knowing as much ate at her, though she forced it away and opted to sate her curiosity rather than indulge her conscience.

A small smile stretched Regina's supple lips as she flipped to the beginning of the notebook and took in the very elementary stickered stamp just inside the cover that read "Property of Emma Swan. Keep Out!" She simultaneously found it annoying and endearing. Of course, Emma, whom she had always considered to basically be a child trapped in an adult body, would have such a stamp decorating her diary. She rolled her eyes and began flipping through the pages, stopping only briefly on a few pages to take in the scripted content. Regina's chocolate orbs widened substantially as she realized exactly what it was she was seeing. _Poetry. _

Pages upon pages of poetry filled the notebook, and not simple "Roses are red. Violets are blue," poetry, but true, heart-wrenching, riveting, and shockingly well-written poetry. Regina's heart fluttered wildly in her chest as this new discovery filtered through her. Emma Swan, the goofy, bumbling, yet endearing Sheriff, was a poet. No, she was not just a poet. She was an artist. From what the former mayor could see in simple glances and quick scans, Emma's work was truly breathtaking and very intimate, very personal.

Regina was overwhelmed with this new knowledge and found that it rather thrilled her. She flipped quickly to the most recent entry and her heart clenched painfully in her chest once more as she took note of the smudged ink, the page still wet with the blonde's tears. She glanced at the length of the poem before drawing in a shaky breath and reading the piece quietly aloud to herself:

"_Every blazing moment,_

_I die a little more._

_Every beat that skips,_

_a sudden touch of liquored lips,_

_lands me on the floor._

_The sting of a hand_

_branded on my skin,_

_the betrayal, the violence,_

_the fuel for my pen._

_Secrets spill over,_

_a rush of chills,_

_a love confession that violates, _

_nauseates, kills;_

_neurotic, chaotic, _

_strung out on pills._

_Rough, tainting,_

_unwanted touches,_

_Bleeding beneath_

_forceful thrusts and clutches._

_Still, silent, oh so tired,_

_broken, berated,_

_humiliated, sedated,_

_placid, mired_

_into the ground._

_A few minutes more_

_on this icy floor._

_Mute out the sound._

_Focus on the door._

_Could I run?_

_Just breathe._

_Anger, fear, sink beneath_

_the surface and seethe._

_Just a few more minutes._

_I let my mind wander,_

_ponder the possible reasons why,_

_or just lay still,_

_a few more minutes,_

_a few more minutes,_

_and then I can cry."_

Regina's stomach knotted uncomfortably, rocking and rolling with the sudden nausea that sprung forcefully forth. Tears ripped furiously from her eyes as she scanned the piece once more, her hand lifting to clutch at her aching chest. _Oh god_, she thought. _Oh Emma, what has happened to you? _

"Regina?"

The former mayor's head snapped to attention and her heart instantly sank into her stomach as her gaze latched onto the Sheriff, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, standing on the overgrown path at the opening of the clearing. Regina tried to move, but she couldn't. She tried to speak, but she failed. She couldn't even breathe. A painful, jagged knot was trapped in her throat and no matter how many times she swallowed, it simply refused to go down. She was caught.


	3. Chapter 3: The Rage Within

**Wow, I certainly wasn't expecting such an overwhelming response to only two chapters. It truly means more to me than you all know. I hope you will stick it out with me and I can keep you entertained throughout. **

**Try this chapter with a soundtrack. I just used this song with the final chapter of my other story, The Princess and the Prisoner, and it works really well for a powerful effect with this chapter of this story. The Sam Yung piano version of "My Heart" by Paramore. (Only that version, though!) Put it on repeat and let the feels take you. Now, onward! Enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Three: The Rage Within

Emma quickly made her way across the meadow until she was standing just before Regina, both of them breathing the same air, sharing the same space. She had made it several blocks into town when she realized that she had forgotten her notebooks and went back for them only to find none other than the former mayor herself flipping through the private pages of her poetry journal. Anger was a screaming banshee in her blood and her initial instinct told her that she wanted nothing more than to punch the woman, but then she realized that she _had_ foolishly left the books lying on the ground in a _public_ area, even if the meadow was well hidden.

She happened to know, also, that Regina used to come to this clearing quite often. Henry had told her. That is how Emma had learned of the secluded area in the first place. He had told her that his mom used to go there to get away from everything, to have some time to herself, a fact he only knew because he had followed her there on more than one occasion. He had always been much too suspicious of her activities after Mary Margaret gave him his beloved book of fairytales and he discovered that his mother was none other than the Evil Queen. When he had followed her there, though, he had only ever found her crying or simply staring into the surrounding woods, obviously lost in thought.

What if Regina had simply come to the clearing to get away this morning and had stumbled upon the journals? Could Emma really blame her for her curiosity? But then again, what if Regina had been following her? What if she had been watching, just waiting to rifle through her private belongings? Oh god, had Regina seen her crying?

Emma took a steadying, calming breath because her thoughts were a raging storm, and her emotions, already ragged and feverish from the lack of sleep, the onslaught of nightmares, and her little writing session earlier, were pushing her to lash out. God, she was so conflicted. She wanted to run while at the same time she wanted to stay and vent to the woman, vent _at _the woman. Her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe. It was all just too much. Those poems were secrets, both precious and terrifying secrets that she had never wanted anyone to know.

The blonde took in the tears tracking Regina's face, but rather than being moved by them, her anger only grew. Pity. It was written all over the woman's face and Emma despised it. She neither wanted nor needed anyone's pity. She glanced quickly down to see what the woman had just read and let out a heavy sigh upon seeing that it was the piece she had only just written. Her heart was pounding as was her head. She needed to get away, get as far away as possible from this clearing, from this moment, from this maddening woman who always seemed to leave her feeling raw and exposed. Her gaze then shot to the notebook that still remained on the ground and she breathed another sigh, though this one was of relief, as the contents of that notebook thankfully remained private and unread, and where Regina was concerned, they certainly needed to stay that way.

The Sheriff's hands quickly shot forward and all but ripped the open journal from Regina's loosened grip before scooping to grab the one still resting on the ground. She said nothing, afraid that her anger in this moment would only drive her to say or do things that she would later regret. She couldn't even bring herself to look at the brunette, so she simply turned away from the stunned and weeping former mayor and marched back toward the woods and the town.

"Emma, wait!" Regina suddenly shouted, finding her voice again. The brunette took off after the Sheriff, doing her best to catch up to her though her heels were proving the task rather difficult as they stuck and sank into the dewy ground with each hurried step. "Emma, please, can we talk about this? I didn't know!"

Regina nearly yelped with surprise as the blonde suddenly whirled on the spot and came at her, tears flooding her cheeks and her lips curled into an angry snarl. "Of course you didn't know!" Emma shouted, her voice raw with her pain. "But that doesn't give you the right to things that don't belong to you, Regina! GOD! Why did you have to…why the hell couldn't you have just left it…." She sighed through her tears, unable to sort her words as she clutched the notebooks tightly to her chest. Unbidden, and much to Emma's own humiliation, a guttural sob wrenched up from her throat and escaped through her lips as she locked tearful gazes with the former mayor and finished her thought in a whisper, her voice cracked and itching in her throat. "These were…god, Regina, these are _private_. They're mine, okay? They're things I never wanted anyone to know, especially not you."

The blonde didn't even stop to consider how that last part sounded, though she certainly had not meant it as it sounded. She was too flustered to notice, too traumatized by the moment to care, but realization quickly sank in as she took in the flicker of pain that instantly painted Regina's features upon hearing such a claim. She immediately started to backtrack, fought to clear the emotional haze from her mind so that she could clarify her meaning, so that she could explain, but Regina gave her no chance.

The brunette's tears continued to fall as she put her hands up and forward in a gentle show of surrender and apology. "Emma, I—I'm sorry," Regina whispered and before the blonde could say anything in return, a swirl of purple smoke billowed up and around the woman and carried her away.

* * *

Regina appeared in the foyer of the mayoral mansion, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She walked slowly and silently through her home and made her way into the study, pouring herself a drink with shaky hands before dropping heavily onto the sofa across from the fireplace. Trembling fingers ran through short, chocolate locks before coming down to cover her supple lips as equally chocolate eyes clenched tightly shut and anguished tears spilled forcefully through her dark lashes.

What had she done? Emma was right; why couldn't she have just left it alone? Why couldn't she have just walked away and allowed the blonde her privacy? Had she just ruined and crumbled the only friendship she had managed to build in decades, even if it was an awkward and timid one? Had she ruined her chances of further developing that friendship? How was she going to fix this? _Could _she fix this?

Her thoughts were a panicked, jumbled mess as anxieties tumbled and rolled through her mind and her heart, but it was more than her worries of friendship that troubled her. She was so conflicted by all that she had learned in those few moments of delving into the Sheriff's secrets that she could hardly breathe with the weight of it all. More than anything, her heart was aching for the blonde, breaking for her. How could she have never known such things, never even guessed? How had Emma been able to hide so much for so long? Regina wondered if the blonde had ever shared such terrible truths with _anyone _before or if they had forever remained hidden away, plastered between tear-stained and ink-smudged pages of secret poetry.

And was there more? Had Regina been able to sit down with the journals and read each piece, how much more pain, how much more suffering would she have discovered? She couldn't even bear the thought of it. She had always harbored her own trauma, her own pain, her own suffering deep within as well but she had also used it as the fuel to drive her into her hate, into her reign of terror and her quest for revenge, but Emma…Emma was an entirely different animal. She smiled. She laughed. She opened her heart to people and she kept her pain for only herself. And her writing—god, her writing, Regina thought; it was powerful and beautiful and heartbreaking. She never would have guessed, never would have even thought of the blonde Sheriff as anything more than a carefree and often careless combination of impulsivity and bravado. She had never given thought to what might lie beneath the surface, to the hidden complexity that might construct the mysterious Savior. How could she have been so blind, especially when it now appeared that she and Emma had so much more in common than she ever would have expected?

She needed to fix this. She _had _to.

* * *

Emma slammed the door behind her as she shot into the small loft she still shared with her parents, as well as with Henry every other week. Thankfully, the place was empty. Her mother was at the school, having gone back to her role as teacher though she now juggled it with the responsibilities of being the new Mayor as well. Even though it was a Saturday, she had been spending some extra time at the school on the weekends with students working on an upcoming science project. She would have taken Henry with her when she left the loft that morning so that he could work on his own project, and David was at the station. Emma had called him to deal with the little crisis she had been called about earlier that morning, a small house fire, and asked him to take over her police duties for the rest of the day. She was too lost at the moment to even concentrate let alone work or interact with anyone. She was so eaten up with her anxiety and her toiling emotions that her entire body trembled with the effort it took not to simply collapse once her feet made it across the loft's threshold.

She stomped up the stairs and into her room, throwing her notebooks carelessly onto the bed before closing the door behind her and sinking to the floor with her back resting against it and her head in her hands. She didn't even know where or how to begin analyzing what had just happened. How much had Regina read? How much did she now know or at least assume? The tears she had seen tracking the woman's cheeks had angered her, yes, but they had also surprised her. She would have expected Regina of all people to remain stoic even in the wake of learning such intimate facts about her, to simply shrug it off and carry on, but the woman had appeared completely destroyed by what she had read in Emma's notebook. Was it possible that Regina could actually _care _for her? Sure, they had been getting along quite well and they had formed a strange sort of respectful friendship, but they certainly were, by no means, what one would consider as _close_. They were virtual strangers but for the fact that they shared a son and weekly dinners. And now the former mayor knew at least one of Emma's darkest secrets, the traumatizing experience that often kept her awake at night, that had woken her this past night and led her from the loft, seeking solemnity and solidarity, a place where she could let her emotions be truly free without worry or interference from her overly protective and frequently hovering mother.

Emma replayed the moment over and over in her mind, the anger that had spilled through her veins, the horror and sorrow that shone in Regina's eyes, and the way the woman had apologized. So quiet, so…sincere. It had eaten at Emma's insides, stirred guilt in her very soul. She replayed her own words, letting them bounce around inside her head and further the dread now flooding her gut. _They're things I never wanted anyone to know, especially not you_, she had said. _Especially not you. _Why had she said that and in that way?

She knew how the words had been perceived. It had been painted blatantly across Regina's hurt features, and she knew she had to fix it. She had to explain, because that perception was entirely false. But at the same time, she was angry with the former mayor. She wanted to stew in her anger. She wanted to hurt something, someone, _anything_, _anyone_. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to curl up in a ball, crawl in a hole, and die with her humiliation and her pain. She wanted to fade into the darkness that decorated her dreams, that seeped into her mind when she felt most vulnerable, and just allow the shadows to take her. In that moment, all Emma wanted was simply to disappear.

* * *

Regina was surprised by a knock on her door that evening. She had just finished eating her lone dinner, though she had really only picked at the food on her plate, pushing it around aimlessly as she had no appetite after the events of the day. The former mayor strolled through the foyer and quickly smoothed down her clothes while checking her face and hair in the mirror posted by the wall next to the door. Her eyes were a bloodshot mess from crying, but there was little she could do about that now. She took a deep breath before reaching for the handle and swinging open the large white door. She barely had the door open before the brown-haired blur that apparently was her son shot through the opening and sprinted for the stairs.

"Hey Mom!" he shouted as he raced up the stairs with a comic book in hand, obviously a new issue considering her son rarely showed such excitement otherwise.

"Hi Henry," she called to him, though he was already well out of sight and her words were quickly followed by the resounding click of his bedroom door closing. Her brows were furrowed in confusion as she turned back to the door to find a disheveled and rather pitiful looking Sheriff standing on her porch, shuffling her feet and staring at the ground. It was Emma's week with Henry so Regina was confused as to why the two had shown up here and at eight o'clock in the evening no less. It would be Henry's bedtime in less than two hours.

Regina took in the blonde's appearance as the woman finally lifted her head to lock gazes with the former mayor. Emma's emerald eyes were even more bloodshot and tired than her own and dark circles sank beneath them, dipping into her sagging cheeks as the woman's lips trembled and tears danced in her eyes. Regina's heart was a painful, throbbing mess as the image spilled into her, clutching at her very cells. She wanted to comfort her, wanted to do something, _anything _to erase all that had happened that morning or at least to help them move forward from it.

"Could you take him for the night?" Emma asked quietly, her voice low and shredded from sobbing. "I just…I…I can't. Right now, I just…" The Sheriff was ashamed of herself. She was normally so collected, normally so good at shrugging off her emotions while facing others, but now, knowing that Regina knew at least some of her deepest secrets, she felt exposed and wounded. She felt as if she could no longer hide anything from the brunette, like the woman's eyes alone were siphoning secrets through her very flesh as they stood here facing one another. It was terrifying and painful and overwhelming.

Regina couldn't help herself. The Sheriff's struggle, her pain, was simply too much. It weighed too heavily on both of them, and before she could stop herself, she quickly shot forth a hand and latched onto Emma's arm. Regina tugged the woman swiftly into mansion, slamming the door behind them before immediately pulling the blonde into her arms. She pressed her body tightly to Emma's, wrapping her arms securely around her and planting one gentle hand in a tangled mess of golden locks. A heart-wrenching, bone-chilling sob tore from Emma's throat as Regina fastened around her, and though the former mayor expected the blonde to accept the embrace, she was by no means surprised when Emma suddenly and forcefully ripped from her hold, pushing Regina back and away.

"DON'T!" Emma practically screamed, unable to stop herself, to calm herself, to censor herself for their son's sake if not for her own dignity. In this moment, she was only broken, an exposed, shaking mess of a woman. She cried. She cried heavily, loudly, painfully, and the brunette cried with her, silent tears tracking the former mayor's cheeks. Regina shook off the rejection and moved forward again, grabbing at Emma's arms and pulling her back in, wrapping around her more tightly, only to be thrown back once more. "Just stop!" the blonde shouted. "I don't want your pity! I don't fucking _need_ your pity, Regina! You don't know me. You don't know anything about me, so don't think you do just because you read some sad shit in my PRIVATE journal!"

"Emma, stop," Regina pleaded, her own voice quaking as she spoke the words. She moved forward again and quickly latched onto the Sheriff once more. She enveloped the blonde and held her as tightly as possible, refusing to budge even as Emma thrashed violently in her arms. Regina's heart felt as if it might explode. She had never seen Emma this way, had never seen her so broken, so beaten, so vulnerable, and so achingly terrified of being that way. Then again, based on the seemingly endless amount of poetry she had found in the woman's journal, she could only assume that all of Emma's pain, all of her memories, were trapped within her and had never been shared with anyone, had never been exposed to anyone. She could relate to that. She saw the fear in the Sheriff's eyes. Emma felt trapped, cornered, weak, and Regina hated that she had caused such a feeling, a feeling that she herself loathed and despised.

"Let me go!" Emma shouted though her voice was cracking, waning in its energy. "Let me go, Regina!"

"No," Regina answered softly through the woman's golden curls as she only gripped Emma tighter, holding her through her denial, through her pain, through her anger. Emma openly sobbed in Regina's arms as her knees buckled beneath her and they dropped heavily to the floor together, the brunette still locked tightly around her.

"Please, let me go," Emma said again, her voice but a broken whisper this time.

"No," Regina whispered in return. They sat there, a crumpled heap atop the marble floor of Regina's mansion as Emma's sobs racked her body, as Regina's silent tears marred her cheeks. "I do not pity you, Emma," the brunette whispered as calmly as possible as her lips nearly brushed the Sheriff's ear. "It wasn't pity you saw in the meadow, and it isn't pity you see now. It is understanding. I understand. Okay? _I understand._" And she did. She had endured many nights of the same vile acts painfully described in the blonde's poetry from her late husband, King Leopold. She was certainly no stranger to being violated. She was no stranger to cruelty, both that which had been inflicted upon her and that which she had inflicted upon others.

Regina had no clue as to where any of this was coming from or why she was even opening her heart and spilling soothing words to the woman let alone why she was sitting on the floor of her home cradling Emma Swan of all people in her arms like a child, but in this moment, she felt it was what she needed to do, what she needed to say. It was what Emma needed, and somewhere deep within, Regina knew that she was the _only_ person who could truly understand and who could provide the blonde with as much.

Emma then surprised the former mayor by suddenly turning in her arms, their tear-tracked faces now only inches apart. A bleary, yet piercing emerald gaze met a similar chocolate one. There was much in that single, momentary gaze—understanding, respect, apologies, gratitude, curiosity, wonderment…and possibly even affection. Emma then wrapped herself tightly around the brunette, a full embrace as the blonde still sat in Regina's lap. Regina hesitated only a moment before returning the embrace gently. She stroked her hands through Emma's golden hair and breathed a sigh of relief at finally having calmed the woman, though her heart still raged and ached in her chest. There was so much left hanging in the air between them, so much to discover, so much to uncover, and yet, in this moment, they were still. They were silent but for the hiccupping gasps of the blonde. They were settled in the in-between, the precious moment of calm between despair and freedom.

It was comfortable and it felt shockingly wonderful. It felt right, and Regina realized that perhaps a door had just been opened. Perhaps they were on the precipice of something greater, something more meaningful than anything either of them had ever known.


	4. Chapter 4: Through a Child's Eyes

Chapter Four: Through a Child's Eyes

Regina glanced at the large round clock in the foyer as her temple rested softly against the back of Emma's head. They had been sitting there on the floor nearly fifteen minutes now as the blonde had clutched onto the former mayor and shook through her sobs. Regina's body was beginning to ache from sitting on the hard, marble floor in a crumpled heap beneath the weight of the Sheriff who was now practically sitting in her lap. She hadn't wanted to move, though. She knew Emma needed the comfort and as much as it surprised her, she found she truly wanted to provide it. She wanted to be that comfort, even if it meant enduring the cold and the ache of the floor and the awkward position for an extended amount of time. She realized she would sit there as long as the blonde needed. In this moment, her own comfort didn't seem to matter. She was focused only on soothing the woman whose privacy she had cruelly invaded earlier that day, the woman whom she realized was so much more than she had ever thought and more than the eye could see.

Emma's breathing had gone from shallow, ragged hiccups and gasps to a deep, rhythmic flow. Her body was limp in Regina's arms, her head resting easily against the brunette's shoulder. Regina gently shook Emma's shoulder but the Sheriff didn't move, nor did she respond. "Emma?" Regina said quietly, but again, she received no response, and that was when she realized that the Sheriff had fallen asleep. Emma had exhausted herself so entirely that her body had been begging for rest, for escape through sleep and convalescence, yet she had been unable to find the comfort she needed to allow herself that rest. Regina's heart warmed exponentially in her chest as she realized that she had provided Emma with the comfort and the security she needed to finally let go and to finally allow herself to sleep. After what she had done, Regina hoped it was a small, if not monumental, step in mending what she felt she had broken.

The former mayor was contemplating what to do next when she heard light sniffling behind her. She craned her neck back and around to see the source of the sound though she knew, already, who it was. Henry was standing on the staircase, halfway to the floor, and tears were staining his cheeks as he stared at his two mothers wrapped around each other on the marble floor of the foyer. The boy had snuck from his room almost immediately after hearing his birthmother shouting from downstairs. Since then, he had hidden on the staircase, crouched down behind the banister and only allowing himself quick peeks to see what was happening. What he had actually seen had terrified him. Never had he seen Emma so angry or so sad, and he certainly had never seen Regina so calm and comforting, so welcoming with her affection, at least not for anyone other than himself.

"Henry," Regina called to him quietly, a wave of dread and nausea flooding through her gut as she realized that her son must have heard everything, must have _seen _everything, and she could only imagine the magnitude of the riot that must be storming in his twelve-year-old brain. "Sweetheart, everything is alright. Go back to your room, please, and I will be there shortly, okay?" For once, Henry didn't push or accuse or protest or prompt her for instant answers. He simply nodded as tears dripped from his small cheeks and ran back up the stairs to his room.

Regina listened to him go and waited to hear the click of his door shutting before she closed her eyes and allowed a few tears to slip from between her lashes, stunned to find she had anymore left in her at all. She felt exhausted and dehydrated and could not even begin to fathom how Emma's body must be feeling. The woman was certain to have a raging headache come morning. Regina tightened her grip on the blonde as purple smoke swirled around them and carried them upstairs.

The former mayor had several guest bedrooms in the mansion, but for some reason unknown to her, and one she dared not try to analyze, she teleported herself and Emma to her own bedroom. She settled the Sheriff into her massive bed, pulling the blonde's arms from around her neck and slipping her beneath the covers. Regina sat just on the edge of the bed and took in the sight of the wrecked woman lying beneath her silken sheets. She realized in that moment just how beautiful the Sheriff truly was, especially then—innocent and thankfully peaceful in her slumber. She quite liked seeing the woman this way, especially after having just witnessed Emma so broken and so tormented, and her heart fluttered madly as emotions she hadn't felt in a very long time bubbled in her chest and twittered in her stomach. She pushed the feelings down, pushed them away. Now was not the time, and honestly, she didn't know if there would ever be a time for them.

She reached up a hand and stroked back a rogue strand of gold and whispered to herself, "Oh Emma, what am I going to do with you?" _How am I going to help you? _She asked the last question only inside her mind, but it was the truer of the two. She wanted only to help Emma, yet she had not a clue as to how she could go about doing so. Perhaps the poetry was the key, and while the one piece that she had read in its entirety had completely devastated her, she found she truly wanted to read more. She wanted to know more. Regina had always been a fan of poetry, and knowing that it was Emma's poetry somehow made the work seem so much more to her, so much more important, and so much more special. Perhaps she could get the blonde to open up to her, to share with her all that she had never felt able to share with anyone else. It was something Regina found she truly hoped for.

* * *

Regina knocked quietly on Henry's door before stepping into the room. She melted instantly upon seeing the boy curled up under the covers of his small bed, tears still marring his beautiful face. She stepped quickly over to his bed and sat down on the edge, her hand instantly rising to stroke through his soft, chocolate locks. Regina waited for Henry to speak, knowing he would ask what he needed to ask whenever he felt ready, and sure enough, only seconds passed before his cracked voice whispered from behind his covers.

"I'm sorry I spied," he told his mother with a shaky sigh. "I heard yelling and I was scared."

"I understand, Henry, though it is true you should not have spied," Regina answered him, still waiting for him to ask the question that was swirling in his wide, bleary eyes.

"Is Emma okay?" he asked after several long moments of simply staring at his mother, his brow furrowed and his mind rolling through a hoard of thoughts.

"Honestly, Henry, no," Regina answered him. Two years ago, both she and Emma had promised their son they would never lie to him again, and she fully intended to keep that promise even if it was difficult at times, even if she knew the truth might break his heart. He had endured enough lies from both of his mothers and he deserved only the truth. "Emma is not okay right now, but she will be, dear. I promise you this. She is just going through some difficult things right now and is very sad. Do you understand?"

He nodded against his pillow before pressing for more information as Regina knew he would. Her son was just as curious as she was, and just as her own did, Henry's curiosity had often gotten him into trouble. Mostly, though, Regina encouraged him and his intrigue. His mind was ever thirsty for knowledge and while it could be a hassle at times, the former mayor was quite proud of this characteristic in her son. He was such a bright and intelligent boy and was always seeking to learn more. "What kind of things? What's wrong with her, Mom?"

Regina released a heavy, exhausted sigh as she continued to stroke her precious son's hair before giving the best answer she could think of without lying to him. "Oh Henry, honey, it's very complicated," she said quietly, though she tried to keep a small, reassuring smile plastered on her lips, because above all, she knew that's what he really needed in this moment—reassurance; reassurance that everything would be fine, that Emma would be fine, that they all would be. "Sometimes, sweetheart, adults bury their feelings and their sad memories very deep inside so that they don't have to deal with them, so that they don't have to show their emotions or cry or feel weak. Do you understand?"

When he nodded, she continued. "And sometimes, after a while, those feelings just become too sad or too painful to keep buried, and when that happens, it can be very overwhelming. It can make people lash out or be angry like when you heard Emma yelling, and it can make people very sad and very heartbroken like when you saw her crying. That is what is happening to your mother right now, Henry. She is just remembering some sad things from her past and needs comfort."

Regina surprised herself nearly every time she referred to Emma as Henry's mother, especially to Henry, but she had found herself doing it more and more over the last few months as she and the blonde had somewhat become friends. She was getting rather used it and found she didn't it mind it much at all anymore. Emma was Henry's mother just as she herself was his mother. They both were. It was a simple fact. There needn't be a battle for custody or for title. They both could be his mother.

"And you comforted her?" Henry asked, though he knew the answer. He had seen the way his adopted mother had held his birthmother, almost lovingly in nature. It had truly surprised him.

"Yes, Henry, I did," Regina answered, though her nerves were now on fire as she feared the onslaught of uncomfortable questions she knew her curious son was definitely capable of asking and probably on the verge of doing so now.

"But why?" He asked, his brow furrowing again. "You were holding her like you used to hold me when I was hurt."

Regina's eyes began to water fiercely and she fought to keep her tears at bay. "Because she was hurting, honey, in her heart."

"But why would _you _hold her? Why not grandma or grandpa?"

"Your mother and I have much in common, Henry, and sometimes, for adults, it isn't easy to share painful or sad things with your parents. Sometimes, it is easier to share with someone who might be better able to understand what you are going through," she told him, hoping that that was answer enough, but of course, few things were ever enough for her son. He was always reaching for more.

"And you understand Emma?" he prompted.

"Yes, sweetheart, I believe I do," Regina answered. Henry's line of questioning was sincerely making her want to run away. She certainly didn't want to have to analyze her role in all of this, but her son deserved answers and comfort, and she would always provide for him in whatever way she could whenever he needed it.

"But when you hold me, it's because you love me, right Mom?" he asked, and Regina instantly knew what the boy was getting at. He knew the answer, but he was a clever one—shifting the conversation to get the answer that he _really _wanted, and Regina knew exactly which question was going to come next and she absolutely dreaded answering it.

"Yes," she said simply and prepared herself for what was to come, and sure enough, Henry proved her right. They may have had their ups and downs, their terribly tough times, but Regina knew her son like she knew herself. He was an open book to her.

"Does that mean that you love Emma, then, too?" Regina was surprised not by the question, but by the way Henry's green eyes, so like Emma's, widened and filled with a hope she truly hadn't expected to see accompanying such a topic.

"I…I care about her, Henry," she told him honestly, "much more than I realized, but I think that that is something that Emma and I would need to discuss together before I speak about it with you. Is that okay?"

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes narrowed as he considered her answer before he simply nodded and said, "Okay, but just so you know, I wouldn't mind it. If you loved Emma, you know, the way grandma and grandpa love each other, I wouldn't mind it. I think it'd be nice."

A single tear slipped from a chocolate eye as Regina smiled sweetly at her son. Her heart swelled in her chest as her pride in him only grew in that moment, with those words. Her precious baby boy—he was so loving, so open, so accepting. She realized in that moment that even with all the mistakes she had made in the past and would probably make in the future, she had managed to do right by him in many ways. She had raised him well and it showed in times like this, when his heart and his hope shone brightly through even the darkest of moments.

"Thank you, Henry," she whispered before dropped a tender kiss to his forehead and bidding him goodnight. She walked to the door and clicked off the light, but just as she made to step into the hallway, she heard his voice call out to her through the shadows of his room. "She watches you sometimes, Mom, when she thinks you're not paying attention," he said quietly, and though Regina did not turn back to him, she heard every word and each one sank straight through her chest and transformed her pulse into a rapid crescendo. "You make her smile." Silent tears now spilled from Regina's chocolate eyes as she simply nodded in the darkness and stepped from her son's room, clicking the door closed behind her with the revelation of those words swirling wildly around inside her soul.

Regina quietly walked back to her bedroom, her hands shaking as Henry's words danced around inside her mind. Did Emma really watch her? Did she, Regina, _the Evil Queen_, really make the blonde smile? Her emotions were wreaking havoc on her body, pounding in her head and in her every cell. It was all too much for one day. She needed sleep, needed a respite from the weight of all that had happened since that morning. She pushed open the door to her room and immediately noticed, though, that her bed was now empty. She glanced quickly around the room before checking the bathroom. It was empty. It was all empty. Regina dropped heavily onto her bed and let her head fall into her hands. Tears slipped from her eyes as she tortured herself over what to do, over how to help, how to fix all of this. Emma was gone; she was running.


	5. Chapter 5: This Is It

Chapter Five: This Is It

It had now been exactly one week since Regina had seen the Sheriff, since the previous fragile Saturday when she had shredded through Emma's privacy, when the blonde had collapsed in her arms and openly wept. Emma had run out that night, no doubt terrified of all that had transpired between them over the course of that day, of having been flayed and exposed, one of her darkest secrets put on display before the Evil Queen herself. Regina had tried to call the Sheriff multiple times, but her calls had gone straight to voicemail each and every time, and while Emma would answer Henry's calls, she refused each time he asked if she would like to speak to the former mayor. Emma had not been at the Sheriff's station the entire week either, having David or Ruby cover her shifts each day, so Regina had been unable to visit her there and she refused to go to Snow White's loft of all places to hunt the woman down.

The blonde had been to none of her typical writing spots—the beach, the diner, the clearing. Nothing. It was as if she had disappeared from Storybrooke entirely, though she had told Henry several times she had not left and promised she wouldn't as her absence had made him worry. The Sheriff had skipped out on their weekly dinner together as well, and Regina was beginning to wonder when or even if the woman would show herself again, if she would even come to retrieve their son tonight as she was scheduled to since Regina had gotten an extra evening with him. She wondered if Emma would ever speak to her again, really speak to her. Her heart ached in her chest with her fear that perhaps she truly had lost the blonde, that perhaps she had broken what little they had managed to build or ever could have built.

A knock on the door stirred Regina from her thoughts. She glanced to the door as she bit her lip, her hands shaking and her stomach rolling uncomfortably knowing that she was about to be face-to-face with Emma again after the woman had been painfully vulnerable and weak in front of her. A part of her knew that the Sheriff really didn't want to see her, didn't want to be near her, while another part of her desperately hoped that Emma truly wanted to share with her on some level, wanted Regina to remain a part of her life, a part that existed beyond their shared son. Yet another part of her was angry with the blonde for avoiding her so adamantly, though truthfully, she couldn't blame her.

This jumbled mess of emotion—hope, fear, worry, panic, wonder, frustration, anxiety—had been wrestling and warring within the former mayor every waking moment of the past week. She did her best to swallow her emotions and her chaotic thoughts in her moments with Henry, but once she was alone, they seeped in again. They devoured her. She couldn't shake them, couldn't shake her guilt or the image of Emma's pain, and couldn't shake the words of Emma's poetry as they echoed in her mind. She felt trapped in a constant loop of all that had led her to the loss of her only friend.

The knock sounded again and Regina shook her head, bringing herself back to reality, before striding over to the door and wrenching it swiftly open. She had already opened her mouth to greet and address the Sheriff when her brows immediately furrowed and her lips clamped closed. In place of Emma, Regina found none other than Snow White, smiling softly as she stood, back straight and poised, on the former mayor's porch and waited for the woman to say something. After waiting several long moments and receiving nothing but a confused and somewhat disturbed glare from her former step-mother, the raven-haired woman decided to break the silence.

"Hello Regina," she said as nicely as possible.

"Snow," Regina said curtly, a clipped acknowledgment that both were quite accustomed to. Regina had tried to continue referring to each of the town's inhabitants by their Curse names for the first few months after the Curse was broken, but with Snow, she simply couldn't keep up with the charade. While many of Storybrooke's residents' Curse identities seemed as near-perfect parallels to their true identities, it was different with her former nemesis. Mary Margaret and Snow White were two entirely different people in Regina's mind. While both were annoyingly good and kind and both could most certainly be naïve in the worst of times, Mary Margaret was a timid, bashful, and indecisive woman. Snow White, on the other hand, was headstrong and willful and always stood her ground, and this woman, this picture of regal authority with determined emerald eyes, was most certainly Snow.

"Emma called and asked me to pick Henry up," Snow told her. "Is he ready?"

Regina glared fiercely at Snow, but she knew it truly had little to do with the woman. She and the newly-appointed Mayor had actually grown rather civil with one another over the past two years and Snow often sought Regina's guidance over mayoral issues. No, it had much less to do with Snow and much more to do with Emma. Regina was furious that the woman had continued to evade and avoid her, even when it came to collecting their son. She had sat on the ground and rocked the damn woman to sleep for god's sake. The least Emma could do was talk to her, even if all she wanted to do was yell or cry or slap her, even. She really didn't care as long as they at least attempted to work this out, but it seemed the Sheriff was not willing to give her that chance.

"Henry!" Regina called from the foyer, her eyes never leaving Snow's. "Your grandmother is here to pick you up. Get your things and come down, please." Shortly after the Curse broke, Regina had quite reveled in referring to Snow as Henry's grandmother, and indulged in doing so as frequently as possible just to see the awkward expression that always painted the woman's features upon hearing the term. It lost its flair after a while though, of course, and the raven-haired woman had since become rather accustomed to being referred to as a grandmother and seemed to actually enjoy it now. Pity. Regina found so few things to entertain her these days.

Only seconds later, Henry came racing down the stairs with two bags slung over his shoulder and shot to the door. "Hey grandma!" he exclaimed as he dropped his bags momentarily to embrace the raven-haired woman.

"Hi Henry!" Snow greeted him sweetly as she returned his embrace and tousled his hair. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, but where's Emma?" he asked, glancing past his grandmother to see if his birthmother was waiting outside in the car, but there was no sign of her.

"I'm not sure, sweetie," Snow answered, a sad expression painting her features that betrayed her worry for her daughter. She hadn't seen much of Emma lately and while she knew that her child was going through something private and wanted only to be left alone and be given her space, Snow wished that the blonde would let her in. She wished that Emma would share her troubles with her, that she would share all the things she had always kept hidden even when they were nothing more than friendly roommates. "She said she had something important to take care of tonight but that she would see you first thing in the morning."

"Oh okay," Henry responded, frowning, before turning to embrace his mother. Regina planted a loving kiss to the top of his head and said, "Be good for your grandparents, dear, and I will see you Wednesday night for dinner."

"I will," Henry told her before picking up his bags once more and racing out the door, calling over his shoulder, "Bye Mom! Love you!"

Regina just shook her head, smiling. She would never tire of hearing those words echo from her son's lips. After all they had been through and all the hatred and the anger he had harbored toward her before the Curse broke and shortly after, it meant everything to Regina to have finally mended their relationship, and hearing him express his love of her and call her "Mom" again was like a breath of fresh air and a peace in her soul. She happily called back, "I love you, too!" before focusing once more on Snow who still stood, unmoving, on her porch, staring at her curiously.

"Regina," Snow said, "did something happen between you and Emma?" Regina's blood boiled in her veins once more at the mention of the blonde who had been continuously avoiding and ignoring her, and as Emma was not there, the brunette had only Snow to take her frustration out on.

"That, my dear, would be none of your business," Regina snapped before stepping back and swinging the door closed, effectively silencing the woman with its heavy slam. She stalked to her study as if on a mission and quickly drained an entire tumbler of cider before dropping heavily onto the sofa in front of the fireplace and seething in her anger and in her worry.

* * *

Emma watched the entire scene play out from a distance, her yellow bug parked several blocks away, as she stood in the shadows of a neighboring house as the day began to grow steadily darker with the coming night. She watched as her mother pulled up to the mansion on Mifflin Street, quickly strode up the walkway, and knocked several times on the white door branded with the number 108. After several long moments, she saw Regina open the door and the mix of emotions that flickered across the brunette's face, the obvious glare that could be seen from a mile away that the woman sent in Snow's direction. She watched Henry appear and smiled at the sight of her son. It felt as if she hadn't seen him in ages, and she ached to have him in her arms again, though thankfully she would only have to wait until the morning.

He hugged his grandmother before turning to hug Regina and then seconds later, he raced from the mansion and down to walkway to Snow's waiting car. She heard him call out, "Bye Mom! Love you!" and Emma smiled again at that. She was proud of her son for overcoming his one-dimensional ideals about good versus evil and reconnecting with Regina. She wanted them to have a good relationship, a loving relationship, and they finally did. She heard Regina's echoing answer of "I love you, too!" before she saw the brunette snap something at her lingering mother and then harshly slam the white door in Snow's face.

Once Snow had driven away with Henry, Emma took a deep, steadying breath and prepared to cover the short distance to the mayoral mansion and face her fears. The Sheriff honestly felt horrible for having ignored Regina's calls all week and having avoided the woman like the plague, but she had needed space. She had needed time to sort through her feelings, to pull herself together and figure out how to move on, how to move forward from all that had happened the previous Saturday. Because the truth was, as humiliated and angered and sorrowed as she had been, it had also felt wonderful to cry in Regina's arms, to finally have someone know a part of her that she had always kept so devoutly hidden, and for that person to simply accept and understand it. She realized that if she was going to share the darker parts of herself with anyone, it would be with Regina, the only person she felt would truly understand and maybe even relate, and honestly, over the last two years, Regina had come to mean more to Emma than the former mayor realized or would ever even suspect. That's why she had been so relieved to see the second notebook had not been touched that morning. The contents would surely have shocked the brunette and Emma knew that neither of them was ready to go down that path just yet, if ever, though the blonde truly hoped that they someday would.

Emma had spent the entire week lost in thought, lost in her memories, and building up the courage she needed for what she was about to do. It was something she had never done before in all her life but that she now believed she was truly ready for, even if her nerves were quaking beneath her flesh. She stepped from the shadows and darted across the street toward the mayoral mansion, her heart pounding madly in her chest and her notebooks tucked tightly under her arm.

* * *

Regina rolled her eyes and groaned as she heard another resounding knock echo through the study from the front of the house. She pushed up from the couch and all but marched into the foyer and toward the front door. She began ranting even before she had the door all the way open. "Snow, I am not going to talk to you about—"

The former mayor's words quickly caught in her throat and died there as she took in the form of the Sheriff herself now standing on the front porch, notebooks tucked under her arm, and a shy smile stretched across her lips to form an awkward, yet endearing expression. "Emma," Regina said in a breathless whisper, both finishing her former sentence and expressing her surprise and awe at seeing the woman before her after a week of total absence and avoidance.

"Hi," the blonde said with an easy shrug of her shoulders that took the former mayor right back to the first day she'd met the often infuriating woman. _You're Henry's birthmother? _She had asked once her eyes had drifted from her son to the attractive blonde standing uncomfortably beside him. _Hi, _Emma had said with that same shrug, and it had all been downhill from there, the life Regina had built for herself unraveling around her. Now, though, looking back, Regina honestly wouldn't trade the harrowing journey. She had eventually gained an ally in the awkward blonde, a friend, and that connection was precious to her.

Regina noted how much better the woman looked than the last time they had seen each other. The dark pillowed circles under her eyes were gone and she seemed well rested, though her emerald orbs spoke volumes of the week the woman had had. She saw much in those green depths, confidence masking a hint of anxiety, and she wondered what the Sheriff was up to, just showing up after a week of acting as if Regina didn't even exist, shrugging and smiling at her as if that cleaned the slate. Annoyingly enough, Regina found that it worked. She found the woman impossibly endearing and despite her frustration, she knew that she had only herself to blame for all that had happened.

The brunette cleared her throat and addressed the blonde again, though this time more formally. "Sheriff Swan," Regina said, her voice much clearer and more her natural authoritative tone. She thought maybe a hint of typicality, the familiarity of their usual routine might help ease the woman back into a place that both of them were comfortable with, back to having their easy friendship from before. However, the Sheriff seemed to interpret it instead as a sign of anger and hurt, a back-pedaling of sorts.

"Hey, no, come on," the blonde said, emerald eyes pleading as she locked gazes with Regina. "It's just Emma. I know the last time we saw each other was a rough day, but it was nice to hear you call me by my actual name, and several times at that. That had to have been a record for you, huh?" She smiled crookedly at Regina as she teased and the former mayor simply couldn't help the smile that stretched her own lips in return though she was sure to roll her eyes dramatically and sigh.

"Fine, _Emma_," Regina said, exaggerating the woman's name as she leaned heavily against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her, "care to tell me what you are doing here?"

"Care to invite me inside?" Emma asked playfully, still smiling at the woman though she bounced on her toes impatiently as if nervous about something, perhaps the entire exchange. Regina herself was riddled with nerves, though it seemed the Sheriff was mostly back to her normal self, which truly shocked the former mayor. She hadn't expected the woman to recover so quickly; then again, it wouldn't surprise her if Emma had simply buried the experience and was now pretending as if it hadn't been a big deal at all, and it most certainly had been.

"Your mother said you had something important to take care of tonight," Regina countered, eyes curious and brow furrowed as she stared at the blonde, trying to figure out exactly what was going on here.

"I do," Emma answered with a nod, "and this is it. Can I come in now?"

"No, not until you stop being vague," Regina replied quickly. She then asked, "What do you mean, 'this is it'? _What_ is it?"

Emma sighed heavily. Apparently she was going to have to give up her secret right here on the woman's front porch if she ever expected to be let inside. Regina was a fortress when she wanted to be and the Sheriff knew better than to try and break down those walls when she could easily just give the brunette what she wanted. She ran a slightly shaky hand through her golden locks before reaching for the notebooks still tucked under her arm. She watched as chocolate eyes instantly zeroed in on them and narrowed before she held them out in front of her. She waited for Regina to look at her again and once their gazes locked, Emma took a deep breath. "I think it's time I share with someone," she said, her heart like a war drum in her chest, "and I want that someone to be you."


	6. Chapter 6: Losers Like Me

**Hello again, friends. First, I want to say thank you for all the wonderful reviews, follows, and favorites. Such support is greatly appreciated and inspiring. Secondly, I wanted to give you all a heads-up that starting with this chapter and for a while to come, the story will be very poetry-heavy. And again, *ALL poems in this story are my own ORIGINAL works and they are all COPYRIGHTED* I hope you all enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Six: Losers Like Me

_I think it's time I share with someone, and I want that someone to be you._

Regina stood frozen in the doorway simply staring at the blonde, unable to make her lips move, unable to make her voice crawl up the path from her vocal chords and express the feeling that instantly shot through her body upon hearing those words. No one had ever wanted to share anything with her, nothing true, nothing deep, nothing so intimately precious and wonderful and heartbreaking and all in-between; not since Daniel. The feeling was overwhelming. The words blasted through her flesh, every inch of her tingling in their wake, and seeped into her cells, crashed as waves over her shadowed heart and left it soaked in their promise. She was breathless.

"Regina?" Emma asked, desperately needing the woman's reassurance and willingness to be a part of this; this terrifying journey that the blonde was finally ready to make. She didn't know if she would be able to handle rejection, not with this—not with the pieces of herself she had always kept hidden, the pieces she had always been ashamed of. To finally unveil such pieces and parts only to have them pushed away, only to have them denied and rejected, especially by Regina, would crush her. "Please say something."

The former mayor's heart was a frantic vibration of hope and wonder and even a bit of fear. Could she do this? Could she help Emma? She knew without a doubt that if they went down this path, there would be no turning back; so, could she herself let someone in that deeply? Could she open her heart to the Sheriff and share in her pain, share in her struggle, and share in her recovery selflessly? Could she be as brave as Emma was being now?

Regina cleared her throat and shook her head to bring herself back to reality. Her chocolate orbs locked onto emerald and held them, captivated by the swirl of colors and emotions she found in them. It was as if she was seeing Emma in an entirely new light, just as she had that day in the clearing, just as she knew she would continue to do if she allowed the blonde to open herself fully to her. So much courage. So much…trust. Regina felt she could break beneath the beauty of it all, beneath the thrill of it all, and beneath the fear. She held herself poised and together, though; she chose to be strong both for herself as well as for Emma. She wanted this. No matter how many different ways she could talk herself out of it and no matter how many ways she knew this could ultimately blow up in her face or in both of their faces, she knew that she wanted this. She wanted it desperately.

The former mayor could think of nothing to say, no words to justify the perfect chaos within, but she knew Emma needed reassurance. She could see it in those beautiful, hopeful, terrified emerald eyes, so instead of trying to find her voice, Regina simply stepped aside, clearing the path into her house so that the Sheriff could enter. Emma smiled shyly at her and didn't even try to hide the massive sigh of relief that blew through her lips as if a ten-tone stone had just been lifted from her shoulders and from her heart, and perhaps, it had.

Emma stepped across the threshold, her notebooks still gripped tightly in her hands, and halted in the foyer. She had never really been awkward or uncomfortable or unsure around Regina, but suddenly she felt so exposed, so raw. She stood shifting from foot to foot just inside the door and waited to be told what to do, where to go. She had no idea how to go about this, how much it would help, how much it would hurt. She didn't even know if Regina really wanted this, or if the woman just felt guilty and thus obligated to do it. She hoped not. She hoped the former mayor wanted to know her as deeply as Emma secretly wanted to be known, as deeply as Emma wanted to know Regina in return, as she had for so long now.

Regina watched Emma's awkwardness, her heart aching for the woman as she knew this was probably one of the biggest steps the blonde had ever taken in her life. The former mayor had a feeling that Emma, just as she herself hadn't, had never truly opened up to anyone, at least not fully. She motioned for the Sheriff to follow her and led them back to her study. Once she had poured both of them a tumbler of cider, they sat quietly on Regina's sofa in the front of the fireplace, one on each end with much space separating them. They sat in silence, neither of them sure of how to proceed or even what to do or say. Finally, though, Regina decided to break the ice and dive in, seeing no other way to navigate this very new territory.

"So, you write poetry," she said, more of a statement than a question. It still seemed so strange and shocking to her to have discovered this about her son's birthmother. Emma Swan would have been the last person she ever would have pegged as a poet, and a superb poet at that. It fascinated and thrilled her to no end and furthered her respect for the woman.

Emma took a deep breath and sighed, nodding as she said, "Yeah, I have since I was about fourteen or so. I know, shocking, right? Me, of all people, writing sappy-ass poetry, but it gets me through, I guess. I have a whole box of notebooks like these, full and hidden in my closet back at the loft." She motioned to the two notebooks resting in her lap as Regina's eyes widened upon hearing as much. So, Emma didn't only write poetry every now and then. She wrote frequently and in abundance. Regina continued to be surprised and amazed by the blonde. "These are just my more recent pieces."

"I see," the brunette answered. Silence grew between them again, but Regina quickly fought against it, afraid that it would envelop them both and prevent them from ever moving forward with this. "Emma, can I ask why you wish to share with _me_? Have you ever shared your poems with anyone before?"

"No, I haven't," the Sheriff answered, her gaze devouring the roaring fire in front of them as she spoke, "and there _is_ a reason, a lot of reasons really, why I want to share them with you, but I don't think I'm ready to go into all of that just yet. For now, can we just leave it at the fact that I…I just feel comfortable with you, Regina. I'm sorry I freaked on you last week and ran off. I was just shocked and…it was a lot to take in, but I'm okay with it now. I think we get each other, you know?"

"Yes, I think I do know," the brunette answered with a soft smile as she watched the woman watch the fireplace, "but are you sure you want to do this? You certainly don't have to, Emma. I would never tell anyone about what I read or that you write at all. You don't have to open up to me if you don't truly wish to do so."

"Yeah, I know," Emma told her, "and that's a big part of why I'm trusting you with all of this…mess." She motioned to the notebooks again before continuing. "And yeah, I'm sure, Regina. I mean, I can't promise you that I'll do well with this. I can't say I won't freak out like I did last week or won't want to run at times, because I can pretty much guarantee that I will, but I _do _want to do this. I just…it's time. It's time I get some of this out, talk about it with someone, and I've never been a fan of therapy. Shrinks really aren't my thing, but you—you're different. I think I could tell you things without having to analyze my feelings and all of that shit, and I trust that you won't judge me or try and pity me about the crap I've been through. Sorry, I'm really no good with words when I'm nervous—actually, I've never really been good with words at all."

"I think your poetry would beg to differ," Regina answered with a teasing smile, secretly finding the woman's crassness endearing though she would never admit that aloud, and Emma chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, well, I meant with speaking. I've never been good with talking about how I feel and all of that. I just do better with pen and paper. Words are different when you don't have to say them out loud, feelings are different, you know? Writing kind of gives me the freedom to express myself without any pressure, if that makes sense," the blonde told her, now looking back at the former mayor. They locked gazes and stayed that way, simply latching onto one another in the least intimidating way possible, the safest way they could in this moment.

"It makes perfect sense," the brunette said, nodding.

"Good," Emma said with a shy smile, her knees bouncing with her anxiety and anticipation, "and just so you know, I'm not expecting anything from you or anything like that. I mean, you don't have to talk to me about your past or whatever if you don't want to. I'm not expecting anything in return. I totally respect your privacy and know what it's like to want to just keep everything to yourself; so, no pressure or expectations. I just want to share this with you. Oh, but if you _want_ to talk about you, I mean that's fine, too." Oh god, she was rambling; horribly, horribly rambling. _Shut it, Emma, seriously, _the blonde thought, cursing herself.

"Emma, relax," Regina said softly before boldly moving from her position at the far end of the sofa to sit much closer to the blonde. "Take a deep breath," she told the Sheriff and watched as the woman heeded her advice. "You don't have to be nervous with me, or about this. We can take this at whatever pace you like, and anything you do not wish to speak about, we won't speak about. Okay?" Regina shocked herself with the words and had a moment in which she mentally thought to pat herself on the back, because given the way her emotions were rocking and rolling and roaring inside her, she was surprised she was even able to get a single sentence out clearly, let alone offer calming advice and comfort.

"Okay," Emma said after taking several deep breaths, her voice coming out in a fragile whisper much like that of a frightened child. She rested her hand atop the former mayor's for only a moment and said, "Thank you, Regina," before quickly removing it and clutching it around her notebooks once more.

Regina closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath of her own as the flesh of her hand still tingled where Emma had only just touched her. She willed her wild heartbeat to calm before speaking again. "So, what all do you write about?" she asked kindly.

"Everything, really," the Sheriff told her with a shrug.

Regina nodded and said, "I see. Well, would you like to share some with me now, or would you prefer to wait?" Excitement bloomed in the brunette's chest with the possibility of reading or hearing more of Emma's poetry, though at the same time, a heavy dread spilled through her gut at the thought of what content might await. She had a feeling that much of it would be quite dark if the one piece she had read was anything to go by.

"Uh, yeah, I guess…I guess now is as good a time as any," Emma answered nervously, her hands trembling as she reached for the top notebook of the two settled in her lap and placed the other on the glass coffee table between the sofa and the fireplace. She then thoroughly surprised Regina by holding the notebook out to her and asking, "Will you read them?"

"Out loud?" the former mayor asked as she slowly reached over and took the notebook, resting it now in her own lap.

"Yeah," the blonde answered in a sigh. "I thought maybe you could read them and then we could talk about them, I guess, if you had questions or if I'm…if I'm able to talk about them. Is that alright?"

A heavy lump rose in Regina's throat as she thought of reading the pieces aloud. What if her voice cracked? What if she cried? Would that upset Emma? Would it make her want to run? The one piece she had read before had nearly broken her heart and had her crying within the first few lines. How could she possibly make it through whole pieces and with Emma right beside her? She sighed as she summoned her courage and resolve. She could do this. She would do this for Emma, and maybe on some level, for herself. She nodded to the blonde and nervously asked, "Do you want to talk about the piece I read before?"

Emma's eyes clenched tightly shut for a moment as she took a heavy, shuddering breath and shook her head. "I'm not really ready to talk about that one yet, sorry. There are a lot of pieces about that particular subject in all of my notebooks but I'm just not ready to go there, but maybe…maybe someday soon?"

"That's fine, Emma," Regina said soothingly. "As I said, we will not discuss anything you are not willing to discuss." They shared a look of understanding and of acceptance before Regina asked, "Where would you like to begin then?"

"Anywhere's fine, I guess," the blonde answered her. "Just pick any one you want, and if we talk about it, that's fine, and if we don't, then no big deal."

"Very well," the former mayor answered with a nod before shakily opening the notebook and flipping to a random page. She peeked a glance at the Sheriff as she settled on a page and noticed the woman's anxiety. Emma was leaned forward and away from her, elbows propped on her knees and head in her hands as her golden curls cascaded down to hide her face. Regina didn't say anything about it, though. She knew this entire experience would be hard enough for the Sheriff let alone trying to face the first person to ever learn such intimate secrets about her while those secrets were being spoken aloud. It was brave enough to take that first step. Other steps could wait.

Regina took in the scrawling script that was Emma's handwriting, and imagined the blonde writing the words, bent over the notebook with a flurry of emotions storming around inside her. She wondered if Emma remembered writing the poems, if she remembered how she felt when she wrote each one. It made the brunette's heart clench in her chest, though she quickly forced herself calm and relaxed. She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and began reading aloud the piece she had selected.

"_Lay me down in weary truth,_

_naked and trembling,_

_beneath searing sheets of last year's showers_

_on a withering, wilting, wild field _

_of dying flowers,_

_and tell me there is a reason_

_for the tilting of the universe and of the soul,_

_for how this world can be so cruel_

_and so achingly cold,_

_for every dream mistakenly sold _

_for a momentary high,_

_and why_

_our heads and hearts constantly bicker,_

_constantly turn our timid touches _

_of tenderness bitter._

_The taste of past,_

_the only taste that ever lasts_

_to remind us of how we've failed,_

_how we've nailed our hearts_

_to wooden walls,_

_foolishly painted with love songs, _

_washing bare as the rain falls down,_

_in sheets of sorrow around _

_every dying flower in this withering, _

_wilting, wild field of lost_

_and lonely losers_

_like me."_

Regina's heart was fluttering madly within her ribcage, its pulsing rhythm reverberating off of the bone walls and growing louder in their echoes. Her voice lingered in the air though she was no longer speaking, going over those last few lines only in her mind. Her chocolate eyes stung with the effort it took to hold back her tears and her tongue felt thick and unnatural in her mouth as if anything she could say simply wouldn't be right, wouldn't be enough to describe the effect those words had had on her and how much they meant to both women in the room.

Emma's words sang straight to the brunette's soul, evoking memories and emotions she had long since laid to rest. Regina was struck by the power of the piece, by the raw, aching honesty of it. She had felt much of the world's cruelty herself, felt a fool for love, felt a desperate and lonely loser withering in the wake of her sorrow. She was in awe of how the words spoke to her, how they moved her so intimately, so painfully, so beautifully. Emma's poetry, even after only reading two pieces, astounded her. It was art, purely and plainly. It was powerful and soulful and oh so wounded. She could not even begin to think how to describe it in full.

She needed no explanation for the poem. She had no questions. She could perfectly relate to the content. It was as if the words were written _for _her, _about _her. So, rather than asking questions, Regina timidly reached over a hand and placed it atop the Sheriff's shoulder and tried to convey all she felt in that one touch. Emma, still hunched over with her head in her hands and her knees bouncing softly beneath her elbows, raised her head and looked up, her emerald eyes glistening as she locked gazes with the brunette.

Regina smiled softly at the blonde and whispered, "Your poetry is beautiful, Emma."

"You really think so?" Emma asked, eyes sparkling in the glow of the firelight.

"I do," Regina answered, a single tear slipping down the side of her cheek. "I truly do."


	7. Chapter 7: What It Means To Be Small

**Just for clarity—1. This chapter is a direct continuation of the last chapter, just later that evening; and 2. In the context of this story, Henry has never met his father. No NYC trip, and Baelfire/Neal has never come to Storybrooke. Emma hasn't seen him since the night of her arrest. **

**Also, the coming chapters are mostly about delving into Emma's history and telling Regina about her past. It's a slow-burn SwanQueen, but trust me—it's coming. Enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Seven: What It Means To Be Small

Regina and Emma sat on the ground beneath the former mayor's precious apple tree, the very tree Emma herself had ruthlessly attacked so long ago just to prove a point. The blonde laughed internally as the memory flooded through her. It was simply strange to think now that there was ever a time when she and Regina had been anything but civil, friendly even. They were so very different now than they once had been, and Emma reveled in the growth. Truthfully, she wanted only to grow further, grow closer. She wanted more of this woman, more of her heart, more of her soul.

Their shoulders rested lightly together as they sat side by side while Regina flicked through the pages of the notebook in her lap. They had been at this for hours now and the sky was actually beginning to lighten with the coming dawn, but once they had begun it was as if neither could stop, as if neither _wanted_ to stop. Though after several rough pieces evoking sorrowful memories, as well as the timid and tortured conversations that followed, Emma had requested a bit of air, and thus they landed in Regina's secluded backyard under the apple tree.

Neither of the two women seemed tired at all, both alert and comfortable as they sat together, preparing for another piece. Regina continued flipping through the pages. She had been turning down the corners at the tops of the pages of pieces they had already gone through so that she wouldn't keep stopping on the same poems over and over. They had gone through six different pieces over the course of the night, and Regina had been deeply affected by each and every one. She was absolutely in love with the blonde's poetry. She had never read anything more real or relatable than Emma's work. She had never read anything so beautiful in its darkness, in its horror. She was stunned by it, and had thanked the blonde at least five different times for sharing with her, though she did her best not to gush too much over the pieces as she knew that beneath the artistry of the wording lay the pain of its inspiration; thus, she made sure to put Emma's emotions first, asking questions or simply listening whenever the Sheriff would begin to vent or explain once a new piece had been read. Both of them had cried more tears than was probably healthy throughout the course of the evening and overnight, but neither was complaining. Regina actually couldn't remember a night that had meant more to her than this one, at least not any she had experienced in many, many years.

"You sure want to do another one?" Emma asked, her voice cracking with lack of sleep and the many tears she had shed, as she watched Regina's delicate fingers thumb through the pages. "It'll be dawn soon."

"Yes, at least one more," Regina answered, shooting a glance and a small smile at the blonde, her own voice ragged as well, "unless you are tired and want to stop?"

Emma smiled brightly at her. She had never expected that this experience would touch her so beautifully. She had been terrified of sharing her poetry with anyone, especially Regina, though the brunette was the only one she had ever actually considered sharing it with. She had been afraid that some of the pieces outlining her darker experiences, experiences that she saw as shameful or humiliating, would change what the former mayor thought of her, and not for the better. But this—this had been incredible; emotionally trying, yes, but incredible all the same. She found she only wanted to share more, wanted Regina to know more and more of her. She bumped the brunette's shoulder playfully. "No, it's fine. We can do one more, and I see you've picked one, so go ahead," she said, pointing to the page that Regina had finally stopped on.

"Okay," Regina said before clearing her throat and beginning the piece with her rough and dry voice. She had cried much throughout the night and had been thoroughly relieved when Emma hadn't been upset with the reaction and hadn't run from the heavy emotions and tensions that surrounded them as they delved into the blonde's past and soul. In fact, their shared tears seemed to have made the experience easier for the Sheriff though neither of them vocally acknowledged their emotional upset—choosing instead to simply talk through the sobs or just sit together in silence until the emotional outpouring dwindled and waned before moving on to the next piece. It had been a comforting night, even with the trauma and the sorrow and the angst. They had found a sort of solace in one another, and through Emma's poetry, had discovered that they had much more in common than either had ever realized.

"_I kept still._

_I kept quiet,_

_even as the riot raged _

_inside my mind with growing force._

_I had grown accustomed to wet cheeks_

_and withering hope._

_I had learned to cope_

_with watching every beating heart _

_caress each shadowed, suffering part _

_of me, before letting go and leaving._

_I had made my bed with grieving _

_and let the feeling fill my heart_

_and fill my head,_

_envelop each disease-ridden cell_

_with a grip like gravity laced with hell,_

_until one would define me _

_as the living dead._

_I had loathed every touch,_

_every slip of hand,_

_every thoughtless mind without an urge_

_to understand me,_

_but then there was you, my beautiful end;_

_one beating heart with the ability to comprehend_

_my rattling cages, my hallucinated dreams,_

_the bursting seams that barely held me together._

_The trembling, tangled cable_

_that once held us so steady and so stable_

_was taken quick to cutting edge,_

_as you placed your hand to my back_

_at the crumbling ledge_

_of the universe_

_and pushed._

_I felt the ground go,_

_and the air whipped my face with burning pace,_

_as I took flight to whatever end_

_awaited me below._

_You always said that I was so small._

_You were right._

_Small enough to disappear_

_at your demand,_

_or by your hand,_

_without anyone_

_ever_

_knowing."_

Regina traced a delicate finger over the page as she finished reading as if that simple gesture could somehow allow her to touch the memory hidden within the words. She heard a heavy, shuddering sigh to her left and turned to look at the sorrowed expression in Emma's emerald eyes. Regina wanted to ask; she wanted to know who the poem was about, someone who had obviously betrayed the blonde at some point in her life, but instead, the former mayor kept quiet. She waited for the Sheriff to speak, waited for Emma to willingly offer the information, and if she didn't, then Regina would be okay with that. She would respect it, but she hoped the woman would share this story with her as it seemed to have affected Emma deeply, and Regina found that the deeper she delved into Emma Swan's emotions, the more she cared for the woman, the more she respected her, and the more she wanted to know.

"Neal," the blonde finally said, the single word escaping her lips in an exhausted and sorrowed whisper.

"Neal?" Regina asked softly, her eyes never leaving Emma's, waiting for the woman to further explain.

"Yeah," Emma answered quietly. "Henry's father."

"Oh," Regina said. She wasn't exactly sure why, but her stomach bottomed out upon hearing the blonde's words. Of course she knew that Henry had a father out there somewhere, but she had never put much thought to it, and she honestly didn't want to. She tried not to overanalyze the fact that she didn't want to think about or picture Emma with any man, anyone at all really. She pushed her own feelings as far down as she could manage to bury them, though to herself, she certainly couldn't deny that the feelings were there and were ever growing, only fueled by all that she was learning through Emma's poetry. She was falling for the Sheriff, slowly but surely, and it purely terrified her.

"Yeah," Emma said again, snorting, and Regina noticed that the blonde didn't cry about this particular topic. In fact, she seemed rather removed from it, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes, but perhaps she had made at least some fragment of peace with all that had apparently happened between she and this Neal character. Emma sighed heavily before diving into a story that she had never shared with anyone, the real story about Henry's father.

"I was sixteen when I left the foster system. Well, I ran away, actually, but same difference. Anyway, I didn't have anything; literally, I had nothing to my name except my baby blanket. So, I stole things…" She let the last few words linger, nervous of Regina's reaction, but the brunette simply sat silent beside her, listening. There were no snide remarks, no teasing, no pursing of those perfect lips, and not an ounce of judgment in those chocolate eyes, so Emma sighed in relief and continued. "Just whatever I needed, you know. Clothes, food, a bit of cash here and there when I could pickpocket a guy's wallet or something. That was pretty much how I survived for a long time, and then one day, I found this awesome vintage, yellow Volkswagon parked in an alley, and I just had to have it."

"The deathtrap?" Regina suddenly chimed in incredulously. "That car is stolen property?"

"Well, originally, yes," Emma answered with a bit of a smirk, "but I wasn't the first person to steal it if that makes you feel any better." She playfully bumped Regina's shoulder again and was relieved to see the woman unsuccessfully try to hide a small grin.

"The Sheriff drives a stolen vehicle," Regina said, chuckling softly. "Oh, the irony."

"Hilarious, Regina," Emma replied, rolling her eyes, though she couldn't help laughing a bit at that as well. "Anyway, I picked the lock on the bug and was in the process of hotwiring it when this guy just pops up from the backseat. I, of course, thought he was the owner of the car because he had the keys to it, but it turned out that he had actually stolen the car before I did. That was Neal."

"Charming," Regina said dryly.

Emma laughed softly and said, "I think my dad would resent that."

"Your father is not as charming as he likes to think," Regina responded, rolling her eyes. "Your mother successfully managed to inflate his ego with that 'Charming' nonsense far too much for any one person's good."

"I'm gonna agree with you there, but don't tell them I said that," Emma said, laughing, thankful for Regina's playful, witty banter, because it kept the pain at bay. Talking to this woman was like breathing. It felt natural. It felt refreshing. It felt necessary.

"So, you and this Neal character bonded over your thievery, I take it?" Regina asked, still teasing the blonde as she sensed it rather helped her.

"Unfortunately, yeah, and we didn't stop. We had all these different scams we'd use to distract people while one of us ducked in and grabbed the goods we wanted or needed. I actually used to shove a half-deflated basketball up my dress and pretend that I was pregnant while Neal stole food or clothes or whatever was available wherever we ended up. You'd be surprised how many people are easily distracted by a pregnant chick. Anyway, I couldn't see how wrong it was, you know? I had been doing it so long and to me, it was just survival. Plus, I was blinded by my feelings for Neal and he only encouraged the stealing. We were like a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde."

"So, he was your first love then?" Regina asked softly, knowing personally just how sensitive the topic of one's first love could be. The loss of her own first love had driven her to do unspeakable things.

"He was my first _everything_, at least my first that I actually _chose_," the Sheriff told her and Regina's stomach clenched painfully as she instantly thought of the poem she had read in the meadow the previous week. As much as she hated the thought of Emma being with this guy, she was glad that the woman had actually gotten to choose him rather than having him forced upon her. "He was the first person that I loved in _any_ capacity, you know? Growing up in foster care, I never allowed myself to get attached to anyone. It hurt too much when I was sent away or had to leave them or lose them, so I kept to myself. Neal was my first love, yeah, but he was also my first and only friend, until now of course, and he was my first confidant. I shared things with him, thoughts and feelings. Never as much as I've shared now with you. I mean, I never showed him my writing or anything. That wouldn't have been Neal's thing for sure, but I did share with him. Mostly, though, I let myself actually be carefree with him instead of just careless, though I was definitely that too. He was the first person I ever felt safe with and really _seen_ by and…actually loved by."

Regina ached for the blonde beside her. She wanted to comfort her, wanted to hold her, wanted to show her that she could be loved without being broken; then again, Regina didn't really know if she believed that that was possible. She certainly had never had any grand experiences with love and she had definitely been broken by it. Still, she longed to change that for Emma, even if she didn't know how. "So, what happened, then? Did he leave you?"

"You could say that, yeah," Emma answered, her brow furrowing as her emotions warred and rolled within her, her buried anger over the entire situation wrestling up from deep within, though she did her best to keep it tamped down. "Really, it was worse than that though."

"How so?" the former mayor asked.

"Well, as you know, I had Henry while I was in prison." Emma said. "I believe you once cracked on me about cutting the kid's cord with a shiv, remember?" Regina's face reddened instantly and she actually tried to stutter out an apology for the hateful words she had long ago spoken, but the words died quickly in her throat when Emma's slender hand slipped into her own and squeezed. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to apologize. We both said a lot of things back then that we probably shouldn't have."

Regina only nodded, expecting Emma to pull her hand away now that they had settled that, but she didn't. Instead, they remained that way, hands joined and resting in the soft grass beneath the apple tree as the reds, oranges, and yellows of sunrise spilled across the sky and lit the secluded area beautifully. Regina's heart pounded wildly, thrilled with the contact though she had absolutely no clue what to make of it, so she desperately tried not to read into the gesture and focused instead on Emma's story.

"So, anyway," the Sheriff continued, "Neal and I had made all these plans to settle down somewhere and stop with all the stealing and everything. We chose Tallahassee, though neither of us could really tell you why. We needed money to get there, though, and Neal said he had that covered. He had stolen about twenty-thousand dollars' worth of watches from one of his old bosses and hid them in a storage locker. Well, the night before we were set to leave for Florida, he sent me to get the watches because he was wanted for the theft and his face was on wanted posters all over the city, and he would have been recognized. I got the watches pretty easily, but everything went sour pretty fast after that. Neal disappeared, just left, and I got busted. I went down for _his _crime, and he just let me, I guess, because I never heard from him after that. I got eleven months in prison. I was seventeen at the time, and shortly after I was sentenced, I found out I was pregnant."

Regina was now stewing in her growing anger. How dare some pathetic excuse for a man leave a woman, who was really more of a child at the time, to take the fall for his crime and carry his offspring, in prison no less! She had no clue where this Neal person was, but if thoughts could curse or kill, she was sure the man was either writhing in pain somewhere at this exact moment or was now, in fact, dead, because she was enraged. She was actually quite shocked by the sheer magnitude of her own fury, sickened by the fact that the very first person Emma had managed to open up to and trust had betrayed her in such a horrible way, especially after all of the traumatic pieces of the blonde's past that Regina had only just learned about. Had the woman ever had a break from the constant pain, the continual disappointments, or was that all that her life had ever offered her? It both angered Regina and broke her heart, and her anger, at least, must have shown, because she felt Emma's hand squeezing her and a soft voice calling for her attention.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't be upset," Emma said quietly, her head leaning heavily against the tree behind them as she reached up with her free hand and used her thumb to swipe a track of tears from the former mayor's face, tears that Regina hadn't even realized she was crying. "It turned out for the best, you know, so I guess I can't really regret it."

"What do you mean?" Regina asked, her hand unconsciously reaching up to cup around Emma's own hand which was still settled gently against her cheek. They locked gazes as they touched, both hands now joined and a growing, beautiful tension filtering the air around them, a tension that neither acknowledged aloud though it was impossible to miss.

"Well, if I hadn't been in jail, then I probably would have kept Henry," Emma explained, a pained expression flashing across her features briefly as she thought of what her life might have been like had she been able to keep her son, "and I was only eighteen when I had him, you know? I didn't have anything to my name. I was a thief, and I was alone. His life wouldn't have been one I'd have wanted for him. So, it was fortunate, really, that I had him in a setting like that, where I was forced to realize that it would be better for him that I let him go, and I didn't have any family or anything that would have been able to keep him until I got out anyway; so, yeah…it was hard to give him up. It was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life, but it was also the best thing I've ever done. It's the thing I'm most proud of in my life, because Henry got to live a life I could only ever have dreamed of when I was a kid. He struck gold, you know?"

"You really think so?" Regina whispered, her voice cracked with her tears as she held Emma's hands.

"Yeah, definitely," the blonde answered. "He got all of this—this huge house, all the toys he could want, clean clothes, good food, and a warm bed each night, but most of all, Regina, he got you, and I know it took me a while to see and admit it when everything was chaotic and we were fighting with each other, but I know now that that is the greatest gift, that _you_ were the greatest gift I could have ever given my son."

Regina's heart exploded in her chest, tingling and trembling and singing with its joy as the words rolled through her. A sob wrenched from her throat as fresh tears spilled from her chocolate eyes. No words had ever meant more to her than those that had just echoed across Emma Swan's lips, and Regina was overwhelmed with sudden desire. Without thinking, she leaned forward, devouring the small space between them, her body taking her to Emma, willing her to kiss the woman, but just as her lips came within a breath of the blonde's, reality suddenly kicked in and the former mayor realized exactly what she was doing, what she was about to do. Right at the last second, she shifted just an inch or two to the right and pressed her supple lips tenderly and timidly to Emma's soft, fair cheek.

Emma was shocked by the fact that Regina Mills' lips were on her, that they had nearly brushed against her own. She reveled in the kiss, even if it was only to her cheek. It meant more to her than words could express. She leaned forward, pulling her hands from the former mayor's and wrapped her arms tightly around Regina, embracing her. She held on fiercely and breathed the woman in as Regina's arms encircled her as well, and they sat there like that for several long moments, just holding one another, the morning breeze whispering around them and through them. It was a perfect moment and neither wanted it to end; however, after a while, Emma pulled from the embrace and smiled sweetly at the brunette.

"I promised Henry I'd see him first thing this morning," Emma whispered, her face still only inches from Regina's. "So, I should get going, but…I'd like to do this again sometime soon if that's okay. I mean, if you want to, too."

"I do," Regina answered quickly as if it was the only thing she wanted, and right now, other than the driving desire she still had to kiss the thin, pink lips in front of her, it was.

"Okay then," Emma said, smiling brightly as she slowly pushed to her feet and offered her hands to pull Regina up as well. "Thank you for this, Regina. I'm glad I'm finally sharing all of this with someone, and I'm glad that it's you."

"So am I, Emma," Regina told her quietly, and wished her words could convey just how truly glad she was about the fact. She handed Emma the notebook to go along with the other one that the blonde had kept at her side all night and now had tucked under her arm. They stood there in silence for a long while just staring at each other, neither really wanting their time together to end. Emma didn't want to leave, and Regina certainly didn't want her to leave either. So, they stalled. They let their emotions keep them still and alive in the beautiful tension that danced around and between them for as long as possible before the Sheriff finally made to leave.

"Alright, well, I guess I'll see you soon then," Emma said, wanting to embrace the woman again, but refraining. She didn't want to push her luck with reaching for more affection than she had already so graciously been given, so instead she just nodded and turned to leave, heading for the small gated exit of Regina's backyard. She turned quickly though as the brunette's voice called out to her a final time.

"Oh, Emma?" Regina called, "Make you sure you record your mother's reaction for me when you tell her that you spent the night with the Evil Queen." A wicked smirk danced across her lips as Emma burst into the most beautiful laughter Regina had ever heard. Emma shook her head as she laughed, though she didn't say anything. She simply waved at the former mayor before turning and making her way from the sanctuary that she and Regina had been hiding in all night. It was time to face the day.

Regina watched Emma go, sorrow creeping uncomfortably into her chest as she realized just how much she missed her already.


	8. Chapter 8: To Be Clean Again

**I gave all the trigger warnings at the beginning of the story, but just to remind you—this chapter contains vivid descriptions of self-mutilation. **

Chapter Eight: To Be Clean Again

"He's out cold," Emma said softly, leaning over Henry's sleeping form as the kid lay curled into a ball at the end of the large couch in Regina's massive living room. The trio had finished their weekly Wednesday dinner at the mansion early and had decided to indulge in a movie together, and of course by the time the credits rolled, Henry was snoring softly beside his two mothers.

"Do you need help getting him to the car?" Regina asked quietly, staring lovingly at her precious, sleeping child. Emma shuffled on her feet a bit, glancing between Henry and Regina before she timidly said, "Actually, I was thinking I could put him to bed here. I brought my notebooks, and I thought maybe you and I could spend some time together, if you want?"

Regina's heart warmed to the point of melting. She and Emma hadn't seen each other but in passing since their evening spent under the apple tree, and even those short, few days felt as centuries in passing. She was anxious to hear more of the blonde's poetry, to share more in the Sheriff's life. She smiled softly at the woman, shyly. "I'd like that very much," she whispered.

Emma sighed in relief and returned the brunette's smile before bending to wrap one arm under Henry's crooked knees and another just under his head. She lifted him easily and Regina was momentarily distracted by the ripple of the blonde's muscles in her exposed biceps as Emma wore only a tank top with her jeans. She quickly schooled her features though and rose from the couch to follow the blonde up the stairs and into their son's bedroom.

Once they settled the boy in, Regina made her way to the study while Emma ran out to her bug to grab her notebooks. When she returned, Regina was settled on the sofa, a drink in hand and another resting on the coffee table for the Sheriff. "Thanks," Emma said as she settled in next to the brunette and took a sip of her cider. Regina simply nodded and took the notebook handed to her. She began flipping reverently through the pages, her fingers tracing delicately over each page as she lingered momentarily, lovingly, over each one. When she finally settled on one, she glanced briefly up to find Emma watching her, emerald eyes absorbing her and a small, yet beautiful, smile gracing thin pink lips. They locked gazes for a moment, simply soaking in the moment, soaking in the trust they were so willingly, wondrously offering one another after two separate lifetimes of hardship, betrayal, and hurt. Regina broke the contact after a moment, cleared her throat, and began to read:

"_Someone find me.  
I'm drowning in these shadows,  
in this silent reel of hopelessness  
and memories.  
Someone fix me.  
Fill my empty spaces.  
I can feel them growing in my chest.  
Someone wake me.  
Centuries have passed since I last  
saw the sun.  
I miss the colors rising.  
Someone teach me  
how to breathe,  
how to let go.  
Someone ease me.  
There's a hardness in my heart  
that I fear to keep  
and I fear to lose.  
Someone show me  
what it means to be alive,  
what it is to love.  
Someone touch me.  
My flesh is numb.  
My bones are cold.  
Someone find me  
before I forget what it means  
to need someone,  
before I forget what it means  
to hope."_

A single tear dropped from a chocolate eye, rolled down the slope of a slender nose, and fell from Regina's bowed head to land atop Emma's scrawling script. Her heart ached tenderly in her chest as she silently read the words again. The desperation, the pure, unadulterated need within the piece sank into her, seeping through her pores to adorn her dancing cells with all that she was learning about Emma Swan, with all that she could relate to, with all that she understood so intimately, so intricately, and so painfully well.

"I've dealt with depression pretty much my entire life," Emma whispered softly, capturing Regina's attention and when the brunette lifted her head, her breath hitched in her throat. The Sheriff's eyes were misted and bleary as she stared, transfixed, into the fire blazing before them, as if beyond her voice and beyond her presence, she was lost somewhere in memory, and Regina wondered if she was remembering when she wrote that particular poem and how she had felt at the time, or if perhaps she was remembering far beyond that moment, back to the sprawling roots of her pain.

"I always hid it, though, you know?" the Sheriff continued, her voice beginning to crack as she carried on. "I was afraid to let anyone see all of that…darkness, I guess. I was afraid it would change what people thought of me. I was afraid that a family wouldn't want me if they thought I was damaged, if I wasn't this perky, happy kid. I didn't want people to run from me, which I guess seems kind of funny now since running is pretty much all I've done since I left the system—running from friendship, from commitment, from affection, but mostly just running from my past. I never felt like I could get far enough away from it to actually just _breathe_, you know? It's like my whole life I've been drowning, like I've just been kicking and thrashing, just trying to break the surface, but no matter how hard I try, I can't get my head above the water. Does that make sense?"

Regina took a staggered, shuddering breath as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. Emma didn't look at her. Those emerald eyes stayed transfixed on the fire, nearly unblinking in their stare, though her tears rolled freely, shimmering in the flickering glow as they trailed her fair cheeks. She didn't wait for Regina to answer. She didn't truly expect one, pausing only a moment before she spoke again.

"Storybrooke is the first real home I've ever had," Emma told her, though Regina honestly couldn't tell if the blonde was truly speaking to her or rather to herself, to the open air of the room even—just speaking because it finally felt freeing to say the things she had never allowed herself to say aloud before. "Henry is the first person I've ever committed to and even with him, it took me ten years; even with him, I hide myself. I don't want him to see that I'm broken. I don't want him to see that I'm not this perfect, noble Savior he thinks I am. I don't want him to see that I'm not strong. I don't want him to see that I'm just in pieces, you know? I'm just in pieces, and I don't know how to be whole, because I never have been."

Regina thought she might drown in the sorrow decorating those words, in the fractured cadence of Emma's whispered voice. She knew what it was to be in pieces. She, too, had been that way her entire life. She understood it better, deeper, than words could express, but she also understood that Emma's perception of herself was clouded. It was jaded and distorted, because Emma Swan was the strongest person Regina had ever known.

"Emma," the former mayor whispered, reaching over to grip the blonde's hand and pull her from her memories, from her trance, and bring her back to now. She wanted the woman to hear her, to really hear all that she was about to say. When emerald eyes turned and blazed into her own, Regina took a deep breath and said, "You _are _strong. Being afraid doesn't make you weak. Running doesn't make you a coward. You feel broken because of all that you have been through, and maybe in some ways you are, but that doesn't mean that you aren't strong. You are."

"Not like you, Regina," the Sheriff whispered, the words surprising the brunette deeply and meaning more than she could ever express despite believing them false. "You watched someone you loved die right in front of you and you still carried on. You took care of the girl that caused your pain and you buried that pain so that you could move forward. You married some old dude, even though I'm pretty you that was the _last _thing you wanted to do, and you ran a whole freaking kingdom. You took charge of your life. I mean, yeah, you did some terrible things, but at least you had conviction. You didn't run from your pain. You used it; maybe not in the best ways, but you were strong, powerful, you know? You didn't give in to your suffering like I did. You didn't…" Emma's words trailed off, dying quickly in her throat as she thought to refrain from the confession that rested on her tongue. She wanted to share it with Regina and she knew that it was there, in her poetry, but she also was ashamed of that part of her past. She was humiliated by it, by the constant reminders she still bore of it on her very flesh.

"I didn't what?" Regina asked softly, crying silently as she waited for an answer. No one had ever tried to justify the horrible things she had done in her past. No one had ever given her suffering respect or even made note of it at all. It meant more than she could ever express. However, while yes, she did suffer, she also knew and she believed Emma knew as well that her pain, even in its magnitude, could never have justified some of the vile acts she committed in her time as queen.

Emma sighed heavily, deciding to simply bite the bullet and push through this. She knew it would come up eventually as they continued to read her poetry together, so she may as well get through it now. She swallowed her fear as it churned uncomfortably in her stomach and took the notebook from Regina, flipping through to find a specific page before handing it back to her. She bit her bottom lip until she tasted copper and desperately hoped that this would not change what Regina thought of her, how the brunette saw her. She hoped it wouldn't make the former mayor see her as weak, as pathetic, just as she saw herself when she thought on the things she had done to herself in the past.

"You didn't do _that_," Emma said, pointing at the page. Regina glanced down at the piece, confused. It was poetry, yes, but it wasn't in Emma's typical format. It was written as a simple paragraph. She glanced back up at the blonde, brows furrowed, and waited for explanation, but Emma only continued to point at the page and said, "Read it." After only a moment, Regina nodded, cleared her throat, and began to read the paragraph aloud:

"_I slid the blade across my skin, and I hoped for an instant relief that never came. I watched the crimson droplets bubble to the surface and slither across my flesh. I wept for the lack of pain, the numbness on my skin. I could feel the dark spots on my heart growing, consuming the only fragments of light left inside me. I watched the walls blur and shake as a sweet sudden dizziness rattled my brain, settled like a veil over my tired eyes, and the room began to spin. I tried to stand, but my legs buckled beneath me, and I crumbled to the floor. Despite the loss of function, I wasn't afraid. I never understood why I had always been so empty inside, but in that moment, I didn't need to. I didn't need an explanation. I didn't need relief. I had spent my life searching for those things, and the answers never came. I never stumbled upon truth or reason. It was an effort in vain. I dragged my trembling body into my room and into the pile of blankets I called my bed, and I waited. I watched the fabric turn red around me, saturated with my weaknesses, my memories, and the sickness in my veins. I waited. I waited for the last drops of life to seep from my skin, and I wondered if in death, peace would finally find me. I closed my eyes and welcomed the darkness. I could hear my gentle heartbeat stutter and slow. Buh-bum. Buh-bum. My breath, ragged and short, crawled across my lips. Buh-bum. Buh-bum. My ears were ringing. Buh-bum. My mouth grew dry. Buh-bum. My thoughts slowed, the chaos in my brain finally subsiding, and I smiled at the stillness. Buh-bum. The silence eased me. Buh-bum. I wasn't afraid. Buh-bum. I waited."_

Nausea roared like a wild, angry beast in Regina's stomach as she finished the piece. Her tears were a river with rapid current and she could hardly keep her body from trembling as they scorched burning trails down her cheeks. _Oh Emma_, she thought, her heart clenching so tightly in her chest that she feared it would crumble any moment. After several long minutes of trying to compose herself, Regina finally lifted her head and met those misty emerald eyes. "You tried to kill yourself?" she asked in a whisper, though it was more of a statement than a question as the piece she had just read made the truth of it entirely clear.

Emma nodded slowly, tears slipping steadily down her face and dripping onto her tank top, leaving small ovular wet spots to decorate the fabric. "Yeah," she said, her voice broken as she spoke, "more than once, actually, but that was the time that I remember most vividly. I still dream about it sometimes, which is how the piece you just read came about. I had dreamt of it and wrote that when I woke. That was the closest I ever came to actually succeeding. I was thirteen and I had just come back to the group home from the worst family I'd ever lived with. A janitor actually found me, and they rushed me to the hospital. I almost didn't make it, and then they put me in one of those psych wards on a 72-hour suicide watch. I didn't try it again for a long time after that, but I still cut myself a lot with pretty much anything I could find—scissors, broken pieces of bottles I found, and stuff like that. I don't really know why. It just…I felt numb. I just wanted to feel something, you know? Like I thought maybe I could dig the memories out of me. After I left that family, I felt dirty. I felt diseased, and I wanted it out of me—that feeling. I wanted to be clean again."

Regina harshly swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat. She didn't know what to do or what to say or how to fix this or even if it could be fixed. She wanted to express how she felt, how deeply she ached for the blonde, but at the same time, she didn't want Emma to feel pitied. She wanted to tear the entire fucking world apart and burn it from the inside out just to make it suffer for all the pain and the hardship that this woman had endured, for the people that had betrayed and hurt the blonde and pushed her to the point of harming herself, to the point of wishing to end her life. She wanted to scream with all that was rocking and roaring within her, but she held tightly to her composure, clutching onto it like a life raft, because in that moment, it truly was.

The former mayor took a deep breath before setting the notebook aside and turning fully to face the Sheriff. She reached forth and pulled Emma's hands into her own, rubbing her thumbs soothingly over the backs of the blonde's hands and reveling in the softness of the woman's skin, allowing herself to feel so deeply thankful that she could do this—that Emma was alive for her to do this, that she had survived and lived and eventually found her way to Storybrooke, to Henry, and…to her. She prepared herself for all that she was about to say, the admissions she was about to make that she had never openly admitted to anyone and rarely even to herself, the admission of guilt and of regret.

"That doesn't make you weak, Emma," she whispered raggedly. "You were a child and as a child, you endured more than any one person should ever have to, more than most ever endure in a lifetime. It doesn't make you weak, Emma. You survived it, and you carried on. Everyone deals with their pain differently. Everyone is a victim to it at some point. I think I am the perfect example of that."

"What do you mean?" Emma asked quietly, her heart beating so loudly in her chest that she was nearly positive Regina could hear it. She was a tangled mess of sorrow and relief, relief that Regina hadn't turned her away, hadn't looked at her with pity in those beautiful chocolate eyes, and hadn't seen her as shameful or weak after learning the things she had done to herself. Instead, the woman was comforting her. She was praising her for simply surviving. Emma had never felt more loved in all her life, more accepted. It was the best kind of feeling, the kind that sings sweet lullabies right to your very soul.

"You said that I was strong because I didn't give in to my suffering," Regina told her, "but don't you see, Emma? That is exactly what I did. I _did_ give in to my suffering. I was _consumed _by it. I let it drive me to do truly terrible things. No, I never attempted suicide, but I inflicted my pain on others, and that is a far worse crime. I tortured people. I manipulated them, and I brought about many, many deaths. That is weakness. I never saw it then, but I see it now. It is a far nobler act to carry your pain in silence than it is to unleash it on the world just to be rid of its weight. It is good to share and to fight for what you want, but not at the expense of others. It took me a very, very long time to learn that. After the things I have done, I can _never _truly be clean again, but you, you already are. You just can't see it yet. In your own small ways, you let go of your pain. You gave it up in your writing and in choosing to let those who have harmed you or betrayed you go unpunished. I chose hate, Emma, but you chose love, and that makes you clean. That makes you strong. _You _are the strongest person I know."

Emma openly sobbed as Regina spoke and when the brunette finally finished, the blonde rocketed from her position and into Regina's arms. She needed to be held. God, she wanted so desperately to be held. No one had ever made her feel so precious, so loved despite knowing the things she had endured and the ugliness she still believed ghosted in her veins. Regina Mills felt like the freshest breath of air she had ever taken; she felt like freedom, like the saving grace that Emma had been searching for her entire aching life.


	9. Chapter 9: Hardened Hearts

Chapter Nine: Hardened Hearts

"_I weave circles around fragile memories_

_true to my image,_

_loyal to my loving lies._

_I keep the shades, let them grow, _

_let them fade, let them grasp _

_my heart in aching hunger._

_I allow these pains to bind_

_this writhing soul in chains_

_and pull me under,_

_a descent of antiquity,_

_born in the youth of my former_

_lives._

_Still falling._

_Still gazing on blazing horizons,_

_dreaming lucid dreams,_

_and the ending never changes._

_For decades, centuries even,_

_it seems_

_I have waited, breathlessly,_

_alone, to touch something,_

_ignite the air,_

_burn the edges of this timeworn_

_despair,_

_but this heart, _

_fossilized and silent, _

_once was tender_

_and once was violent,_

_and once was yearning,_

_desperate, alone,_

_worn and faded,_

_tired and jaded,_

_hardened into stone."_

Regina swallowed the growing lump in her throat as her eyes stung with tears. The last few lines spoke to her so deeply that she could hardly breathe. She could recall so many times when she had felt so worn and so jaded from all that she had been through, from the pain she had always refused to let go of, that she feared her heart had hardened as well—had become nothing more than a pulseless fossil of an organ that once had vibrantly sang inside a girl who had known hope and love.

"It isn't really true anymore," Emma whispered, shaking the former mayor from her silent reflection. Regina looked up at the blonde, brows furrowing, and asked, "What isn't?"

"My heart—it isn't hardened anymore," the Sheriff told her, a small smile stretching her lips. "I mean, that poem is true in that that's how I've always felt, but just thinking about it now, I know it isn't really how I feel anymore. My heart isn't hard. I think, actually, that it's fuller and softer now than it's ever been before." She meant it. She meant every word. She couldn't recall ever feeling more alive than she had lately. It had been three weeks now since she and Regina had begun this fragile, tender journey together and Emma's soul felt lighter and freer than ever before.

Three, sometimes four times a week, they would sit together like this while Regina read the blonde's poetry aloud. They would talk out each piece, both of them conveying their emotions through tumbling tears and tender touches and embraces, and both of them sharing timid truths that they had previously only ever kept hidden inside. Emma was full with the experience. She was nearly blissful. It was as if Regina had reached in and sewn together the frayed seams of the tears on her heart. It was as if Regina had reached in and taken her burdens, lifted them from the valley of her chest and freed her from their overbearing weight. It was as if Regina had painted her new, colorful, and alive, and Emma was so completely and utterly riveted by the experience; every part of her was beautifully moved.

"I think mine is, too," Regina whispered breathlessly, tears slipping from her chocolate eyes as a smile echoing Emma's slipped across her supple lips. They sat side by side beneath the apple tree again, nearly every part of them touching on one side. Neither said anything about it aloud, though both were quite conscious of the shift. It seemed that with each day or night they spent together, digging into their pasts, they grew closer and closer both emotionally and physically, their bodies shifting toward one another more frequently, desperately attempting to eradicate the spaces between them.

"There's actually a poem that we haven't read yet that I wanted to share with you," Emma said quietly as the sun blazed down upon them. She had left the police duties to David and taken the day off to spend with Regina while Henry was at school. She felt peaceful today, joyful even, and felt it was time that they read this piece together. "It's about Henry. He's a big part of the reason why I don't feel like my heart is so hard anymore, and I thought you would really like this piece. You know…we share him. He's our kid, and I know I'm not always the best mom and that I screw up a lot, but I just…I want you to know how I feel about him, how I've always felt about him even before I knew him, and today just feels like the right time."

Regina smiled brightly at the words. She had wondered if there were any pieces about Henry in Emma's notebooks, and was thrilled to know there was, thrilled to know that Emma wanted to share them with her. He was the most precious thing that the two women shared, and she could think of few greater gifts that the blonde could give her than to share her heart with her, the parts that beat only for Henry. She reached over and squeezed Emma's hand gently and nodded to her.

Emma took the notebook and flipped quickly through the pages before settling on one and handing it back to Regina. "I actually wrote this piece twelve years ago right before I got out of prison, right after I gave him up, but I copy it down into every new notebook I get. It's a special piece to me, and I…I really hope that it will be special to you as well," she said timidly, a faint blush pinking her cheeks as she squeezed Regina's hand in return. Regina closed her eyes and soaked in the feeling before beginning to read the piece aloud:

"_This life I give_

_is more than me,_

_a precious piece of my heart,_

_my soul,_

_beyond my fragmented thoughts_

_and haunting dreams, _

_beyond my hopes _

_and the loose, frayed seams _

_that barely keep me together._

_Words elude my tongue and pen_

_to justify the purity and perfection_

_in your gentle, innocent gaze,_

_but I do have far more beautiful ways _

_to fill this silent absence_

_of words. _

_I have love, _

_boundless, unconditional love,_

_yours eternally, even after we part._

_All I am,_

_my pieces and parts, are yours,_

_mended, _

_our two hearts touching,_

_holding one another, _

_and I would gladly give my final breath_

_if you needed it; my gentle pulse_

_in exchange for death, _

_if you could not carry on._

_Oh, this life I give,_

_wonders I have yet to understand, _

_but I feel the warmth_

_in your tender, tiny hand,_

_and my fears melt, fade away. _

_Our first breath of love._

_Welcome to the world,_

_little one."_

Both emerald and chocolate glazed over with tears as the two women sat in the silence lingering after the last line, their hands joined and resting in Emma's lap. The blonde waited for Regina to say something, anything, hoping that the piece would mean just as much to the former mayor as it did to her. Regina waited for the right words to come, the right words to justify how full her heart was with both the sadness as well as the love and beauty that adorned the words she had only just read, words that meant more to her and more to Emma than either could truly ever express.

"Emma, I…I don't know what to say," Regina whispered. She took a heavy, shuddering breath as her tears slipped sweetly down her cheeks and she leaned her head back and rested it gently against the trunk of her apple tree, turning slightly so that she could look into those emerald eyes she had so grown to adore.

"It's okay," Emma told her, smiling shyly as she raised a hand to swipe at her own tears. "You don't have to say anything."

"But I do, Emma," Regina argued, reaching up a hand of her own to cup the blonde's cheek in her palm. "I really do." They locked gazes as Regina's thumb stroked smoothly over Emma's tear-tracked cheek, and the former mayor whispered, "Thank you for this. This is…it's the _most_ special thing that I have ever read."

Emma smiled brightly and squeezed Regina's hand even as it rested against her cheek. She then grabbed the notebook and ripped out page containing the poem at its perforated edge and held it out to the brunette. "I want you to have it," she said softly. Regina took the paper from the blonde but just as Emma made to let go of it, the former mayor grabbed onto her wrist and pulled her hand up to her mouth. She placed a tender kiss to Emma's palm and said, "Thank you."

A beautiful, fiery tension instantly lit the air around them as the two women locked gazes, both their breaths held tight and unmoving in their chests. Emma turned her hand and laced her fingers through Regina's as they shifted even closer to one another, their faces now only inches apart. Regina's heart was pounding so fiercely in her chest that she expected it would rip through its confines any minute and fall through the small space between them. God, she wanted to close that gap. She wanted to taste Emma's lips on her own. She wanted to crawl inside the blonde and feel every inch of her and let every inch of herself be felt in return. She wanted Emma so desperately in that moment, needed her as she needed the air that refused to filter through her lungs as she waited for something to happen, waited for _anything_ to happen, waited for Emma to move and relieve this tension.

Emma was drowning in her love, in her desire to close the miniscule space between them and take what she wanted, give what she felt. She felt she could die in the tension, gloriously burn in the passion that danced between them, in the words they never said and the heat they never acknowledged. She wanted it. Oh, how she wanted it, but it wasn't the time. She wasn't ready just yet. There was still so much she wanted to do, so much she wanted to say, so much that she wanted Regina to read and know before they took this step and eradicated that last bit of space between them, before they made to discover each other in even newer ways, more intimate ways. She wanted to wait, but god was the wait killing her. It was shredding her alive.

The Sheriff quickly cleared her throat and shook her head, leaning back a bit and away from Regina's beautiful, tempting lips. Her heart clenched as she saw the flicker of disappointment that flashed across the brunette's features, but Regina didn't say anything. She simply licked her lips, dropped her gaze, and leaned back into the tree. They sat together in silence a long while, neither of them moving or acknowledging what had nearly happened between them. But then Regina leaned forward and made to grab Emma's other notebook, which was settled on the blonde's other side.

Emma swiftly grabbed Regina's hand to stop her and shook her head. "Not that one," she said quickly. "Not yet."

"Why not?" Regina asked, hurt flashing through her features once more, but mostly she just seemed genuinely confused.

"I just don't think we're ready for that one yet," Emma told her, smiling softly at her with a shrug of her shoulders to shake the tension away and lighten the moment. "I don't think that you're ready for it."

"You don't think _I'm _ready for it?" Regina repeated, questioning the blonde. "Emma, I've told you. You don't have to hide anything from me. There is nothing you could ever show me that would change what I think of you."

"This could," Emma disagreed. "Trust me, please. I will show you soon, I promise. Just, can we wait a little longer, please?"

Regina studied the blonde for a long moment, eyes narrowed and questioning, before she simply nodded her head and sighed. "Very well," she said, "but is there a reason why you _always _bring it with you since you apparently are unwilling to share its contents?"

Emma chuckled lightly at that and squeezed Regina's hand. "Yeah, there is. I hardly ever go anywhere without it. The poems in that book are really important to me. They're the most important pieces I think I've ever written, and I just like to keep them close, you know?"

Regina was surprised by this, and her curiosity flamed into burning life until it was practically thrumming in her veins. Now she wanted to see inside the notebook even more than before. She groaned aloud and dryly said, "Great, thank you. Now I don't want to see inside that book at all."

Emma laughed loudly and brightly at this, and Regina couldn't help but to smile at the sound. She loved when she could make the blonde laugh. It filled her with warmth. "You know," Emma said, still laughing as she playfully leaned over to bump Regina's shoulder, "you're pretty cute when you're being a sarcastic ass."

The former mayor rolled her eyes before rising to her feet and stalking toward the mansion. She turned to face the Sheriff as she continued to walk backwards toward the house. "I'm the Evil Queen, dear," she said, smirking wickedly at the blonde. "I am not cute. I'm terrifying and ferocious."

Emma laughed even louder at that as she jumped to her feet and made to follow the brunette back into the house for lunch. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that, _dear_," she playfully mocked as she stepped across the threshold and clicked the door closed behind her.


	10. Chapter 10: Where I Need to Be

Chapter Ten: Where I Need to Be

Emma woke slowly to the sniffling sounds of someone crying. Her dark blonde lashes fluttered as she reached for consciousness. She lifted the upper portion of her body from the mattress to rest on her elbows, reaching up a hand to rub the bleary sheen from her eyes as she glanced around her bedroom to determine the source of the sound. Her emerald eyes quickly focused to find her mother seated on the floor with her back against Emma's bedroom door, tears streaming down her fair cheeks as quiet sobs sang from her throat. Emma's heart instantly dropped into her stomach before soaring back up her throat, soaked now in bile, and catching painfully just behind her tongue as she zeroed in on the open notebook in the raven-haired woman's lap.

The Sheriff immediately leapt from beneath her covers and all but lunged at the woman, ripping the notebook from her hands and growling out, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Snow rose quickly to her feet, reaching for her daughter, only to be pushed violently away. "Emma, please, I'm so sorry," Snow pleaded through her endless tears and aching sobs, reaching for her daughter once more only to be brushed off again. "I—I was putting your clean clothes in your closet because I didn't want to wake you up and I—I just found them, Emma! I'm sorry! There was a box open in the closet, and I didn't know. Emma, please, I'm so sorry."

"Shut up!" Emma yelled, her head pounding so forcefully that she had to fight to stay on her feet as the room spun dizzily around her. _Oh god, this isn't happening, _she thought. _This isn't happening again. _

"Emma, please, I'm sorry!" her mother tried again. "Can't we just talk about this? Did these things happen to you, Emma? Did you…were you…" She stumbled over the words as they melted into her tongue like acid. She could hardly bear the thought of her little girl having suffered so cruelly, having been violated and betrayed. The knowledge roared angrily and painfully in every part of her.

"I said shut up!" the blonde shouted again. "Just shut the hell up!" _Jesus Christ, I've got to get the fuck out of here, _she thought, still trying desperately to steady herself. Regina knowing the mess that her life had been was one thing, because the former mayor was damaged, too. She understood. She could relate, but her mother? Not a chance. Snow White was perfection, or at least everyone thought she was, and there was nothing but pity in the raven-haired woman's eyes. Emma couldn't handle it. Regina had violated her privacy, too, but at least, then, Emma had left the notebooks out in the open. Her mother pilfering through the contents of her closet was an entirely different situation. It angered her beyond measure.

Other than Henry, her parents were the last people on earth that she wanted to know about her past. She knew how they would look at her, how they would absorb it all. She didn't want to be their damaged daughter. She just wanted to be…She just wanted to have her family and move forward, and this—this would change everything.

Emma threw the notebook back into the box in the closet and closed the door. She didn't even bother to change clothes, but instead quickly slipped on a pair of sneaks with her pajama pants and tank top and wrenched open the door to her bedroom, sprinting for the stairs. She heard her mother call out to her as she ran for the door of the loft. "Emma, wait, please!"

But she couldn't. She had to get out. She had to get away, because this was too much. This was more than she could handle right now or possibly ever. Thankfully, Henry was at the stables with David, so he hadn't been made to witness the mess that had just taken place between her and Snow, but that was her only comfort in the moment. Every other thought in her head was an aching swirl of pain and fury. Her heart was pounding madly as angry tears spilled from her eyes. She slammed the door of the loft behind her and raced down the street, not even bothering with her car. She just ran, her pulse screaming in her ears, and though she had no set destination in mind, she knew exactly where she would end up.

* * *

Regina made her way to the front door as the furious pounding poorly masquerading as a knock continued. She ran an elegant hand down her front to smooth her clothes and compose herself before pulling open the door. She arched an eyebrow at her unwanted guest and dryly said, "There is really no need to abuse my door, Snow. I assure you that it has done no evil and means you no harm."

Before a trademark smirk could even begin to paint those supple lips, though, Snow White's fist collided with and cracked heavily against Regina's jaw with a force that quite surprised the former mayor. Her head shot to the side with the impact and the metallic taste of blood instantly spilled into her mouth as her teeth bit and slashed through the inside of her cheek. She stumbled a bit on her feet before taking a heavy breath, gritting her teeth against the pain, and returning to her full height to face her former nemesis. She glared openly at the woman, and while her magic crackled electrically in her veins, itching to be released, she held onto it. She forced it down, held it at bay, and prayed she could control her urge to retaliate.

Regina cleared her throat, swallowing her fury, as she faced the raven-haired woman and asked, "Will that be all, Snow, or was there something else you wished to discuss with me?"

"You _ruined _her," Snow growled out, tears spilling from her emerald eyes, so like Emma's. "Do you even have any idea what she went through because of you?!"

Regina crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into the doorframe as she sucked on the inside of her cheek, milking the coppery substance from the open wound there. Her chocolate eyes narrowed as she studied the frantic and frustrated woman in front of her and her anger only grew as Snow's words seeped into her. "Is that what you truly think? You think your daughter is ruined?"

"She was hurt, Regina!" Snow shouted, arms waving with her words as she stomped her foot into Regina's porch. "She was _violated_ because of you!"

"_Lower your voice!_" Regina growled furiously, glancing quickly around to ensure that there were no lingering passersby to overhear their conversation. She would have pulled the woman into her home, but that simply would not do given her current circumstances and what she had been engaged in prior to Snow showing up on at her doorstep. "She was _not_ hurt or violated because of _me_, Snow. She was hurt and violated because of vile, disgusting swine masquerading as people who chose to take advantage of her."

"People who she never would have even met if it weren't for _you_ and the Curse!" Snow countered angrily.

"Don't you think I know that?!" Regina spat venomously, and her eyes instantly began to sting with the tears now fighting to the surface. She refused to let them drop. She would not be weak in the face of Snow White of all people. "Don't you think that I am well aware of the fact that Emma never would have endured such hardships had I not cast the Curse? Don't you think I _know _that I am partly responsible for it, for all of it? Don't you think I am sick because of it, that it eats away at me every goddamn day?! I do _not _need a lecture from anyone, especially not you, _Snow White!_" The woman's name expelled from her lips like bile—burning and leaving a horrible taste on Regina's tongue. She had put aside many of her issues with the raven-haired woman over the last two years, but this—this she could not handle from her former nemesis. This was private and something she would only ever choose to share with Emma. She just wanted Snow to disappear in this moment, before she let her anger devour her, before she let her guilt push her down a path she knew she could never again tread upon.

Snow was quite surprised by those words. She had certainly never expected Regina of all people to admit to any faults or failures let alone reveal and express actual guilt over them. Internally, she realized that she should acknowledge as much and let it remind her that the former mayor had greatly changed over the years, but externally, her flesh was alive with her fury. Their history was dancing wickedly on her skin and she could not see beyond the pain of their shared past and how that past had spilled over into her daughter's life. It infuriated her, and though she knew logically that the people who had directly violated her daughter were truly to blame, it was just too easy to blame Regina. It was what she had always done. It was what they all had done. So, she clung to that easy comfort, and chose to use it, chose to lash out because of it.

"Oh, so I'm supposed to believe that _you_ actually feel guilty, Regina?" Snow asked, her voice cruelly dripping with her sarcasm and mockery. "You aren't fooling anyone, Regina, and certainly not me. You got exactly what you wanted out of the Curse, while the rest of us suffered because of it."

"If that is what you believe, Snow, then I suppose we are done here. There is nothing more to say," Regina told her, eyes still flashing with her fury, tiny hints of purple seeping into melted chocolate.

"You actually expect me to believe that you are sorry for what Emma endured?" Snow asked before Regina could make to close the door in her face. "You don't even know her, Regina, so I fail to see why you would even bother to care when you have never bothered to care about anyone other than yourself! And look what that lack of caring has done, Regina. Look what it has led to. My daughter suffered because of you. She is broken because of you."

"She is _not _broken. She is fucking beautiful!" Regina shouted at Snow, who visibly stumbled at the words. Snow's hand shot to her mouth, cupping over her lips with her surprise at Regina's words. "And contrary to popular belief and opinion, darkness does not make a person broken nor does it make them evil," the former mayor continued, taking sharp breaths to try and calm herself between sentences. "It simply makes them _more_, more than the generic labels you so love to throw around, Snow; and yes, I _do_ know her, and I care about her and I care about Henry. So, you may think whatever you like about me, but that does not make your thoughts accurate. Did you not even wonder how it was that I knew exactly what you were referring to when you showed up here pounding on my door and screeching at me like a deranged banshee?"

Snow's emerald eyes widened substantially with those words and her lips frantically began moving without producing solid words or phrases. She spluttered through a variety of insignificant sounds and half-words before she was finally able to voice an actual question. "How did you know?"

"I told her." Both Regina's and Snow's heads snapped to attention at the sound of the voice echoing from within the former mayor's mansion. Emma stood barefoot in her pajama pants and tank top at the back of the foyer, several feet behind Regina. She had run straight to the brunette's house after leaving her own. She hadn't intended to go there. Her feet had simply carried her to Regina, or perhaps, it was her heart that had led her to the former mayor. Either way, it was where she wanted to be, where she needed to be.


	11. Chapter 11: So Were You

Chapter Eleven: So Were You

"Emma," Snow said in a surprised gasp. "What are you doing here?"

"I want to be here," Emma answered her simply before stalking forward. When she reached the open doorway, she turned to Regina and her eyes instantly softened and saddened as she took in the bit of blood that had run over the brunette's bottom lip and the bruise that was already beginning to develop along the line of her jaw. She lifted a hand and used her thumb to gently wipe away the blood before cupping her palm to Regina's cheek. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, lovingly.

Regina was surprised by Emma's show of affection; not because they hadn't been affectionate toward one another, because they had, but never in front of anyone else, especially not Emma's mother of all people. The blonde, however, seemed perfectly comfortable with the display, so Regina simply allowed herself to be comforted by the Sheriff's touch as she normally would be. She nodded and whispered, "I'm fine," as she leaned into the touch and reveled in it, reveled in Emma's concern for her even though it had been the Sheriff's own mother who had caused the injury.

Snow's heart was a stuttering mess inside her chest as she watched the affection that Emma was so openly putting on display and for _Regina_, no less. Her head swam dizzily as a million implications and possibilities spilled through her mind. "What the hell is going on here?" she bit out, stirring both women from their apparent private reverie.

Emma turned to face her mother, her eyes instantly blazing with her anger once more. "I think you should go, Snow."

The raven-haired woman's face contorted, her features flickering with her hurt at being dismissed in favor of Regina, the very woman she believed had caused all of this—the woman she believed was the reason for the troubling poetry she had read, the reason for Emma having need to be so private and so detached and so emotionally shy. How could Emma ever choose Regina over her?

_Wait…no_, Snow thought. "Are you two…together?!" she suddenly asked, her voice raising several octaves as her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline and her vision swam dangerously before her as she swayed on her feet. _This cannot be happening. _

"No," Regina and Emma said in unison, though there was no mistaking the hint of sorrow that decorated both voices as they spoke the singular word, sorrow that silently finished the sentence for them—_but we'd like to be. _

"But if we were," Emma continued, instantly capturing Regina's attention; chocolate eyes shot up, hopeful and wanting as they settled on the blonde, "it would be my choice, and it wouldn't be anyone's business but Regina's and mine."

"But why?" Snow asked, angry again. "Why would you even…? Emma! She is the reason that you grew up without us! She is the reason why you had to go through all of that horrible…" Snow's words continually died in her throat. She simply could not bring herself to say the words aloud, to verbally acknowledge the horrors she had read about in Emma's poetry.

"We all do terrible things, Snow," Emma told her, completely and utterly exasperated with the mess that was her mother's continual inability to see beyond black and white. She knew that Snow had made great strides in coming to accept Regina and even be civil with her, but there still were times, even two years later, when both she and David would comment on Regina being untrustworthy or something else of the sort. It absolutely infuriated the Sheriff.

"We all make mistakes, even you," she continued. "People are a lot more than the mistakes they've made. If you don't see that, then I don't even know why you would want to be a part of my life, because I've made a ton of mistakes. I've done some pretty shitty things, but I don't let those things define me, and you need to stop defining Regina by the shit she did decades ago. For Christ's sake, let it go. You can't just continue to condemn people over and over again based on shit that happened forever ago. How do you not see that? How do you not see that that is _exactly _what I've done for you and for David, because you both are just as much to blame for my past as Regina is, but I've let _that_ go."

"What?" Both Regina and Snow asked in unison, shocked by Emma's statement that Regina was not solely to blame. "What do you mean your father and I are to blame?" Snow squeaked incredulously.

"Regina cast the Curse, yeah," Emma told her simply as if the answer was obvious, "but she sure as hell didn't force you to send me away. You could have kept me with you. We could have been cursed together just like I told you before."

"But Emma, I told you, we did that to give you your best chance," Snow said quietly, tears slipping down her cheeks once more.

"That's what you said and I know that that's what you believe, but that's not how I feel, Snow," Emma said, her voice now cracking a bit as she continued. It had already been much too trying of a day for her, and all she wanted was to crawl into Regina's arms and cry and be held.

As soon as she had arrived at the mayoral mansion, tear-stained and frantic, Regina had simply pulled her into an embrace and rocked and comforted her. It had soothed her down to her very soul. They had only just begun talking about what had happened when the pounding on the door began, and Emma chose to stay hidden in the study, not wanting anyone to see her like that; but as soon as she heard her mother's screeching, she knew it was not going to end well and she would have to make an appearance.

"Look, this is really not something that I ever wanted to get into on Regina's freaking front porch of all places, but you need to hear this and then you need to go home, Snow," Emma told her mother, before taking a deep, steadying breath, pushing back the tears that threatened at her eyelids, and spilling the truth that had rolled and burned inside her for two long years now.

"You didn't do it for me, not _really. _You did it because you wanted to save _yourselves_. You did it because of some damn prophecy that said I would come back and break the Curse. You did it because you needed a Savior, because your kingdom needed a Savior, and freaking Rumplestiltskin told you that _I_ was that Savior. You say you wanted to give me my best chance, Snow, but you stuffed me, an _infant_, into a freaking magical wardrobe with not a damn clue as to where I would end up or what would happen to me! How can you even think that you were giving me my best chance when you had no idea how that chance would turn out? It could have been so much worse than what I would have had if I had been cursed with you. It _WAS _so much worse. I can pretty much guarantee that whatever cursed life I would have had would have been better than what I actually got."

She paused for only a moment, clenching closed her eyes as she fought to keep her tears at bay, and took a deep breath. She was instantly comforted when she felt Regina's soft, warm hand settle on the small of her back. No one had ever eased her soul the way Regina could. It instantly empowered her and gave her the strength to continue despite the look in her mother's eyes which only made her want to cry and take it all back, but she knew she couldn't. This, all of this—it needed to be said.

"When I gave Henry up, I didn't do it because I knew or hoped he'd find me again someday or because I thought it would make my life better to not have to deal with a kid. I gave him up because I just wanted him to have a better life, a beautiful life, a life that I _knew _I couldn't give him at the time. _That _is giving a child his best chance. What you did was entirely different. So no, I don't believe you when you say you were giving me my best chance. I believe that you sent me away only to save yourselves, and that was just as selfish an act as Regina casting that Curse to get her revenge. So, yeah, you're both to blame, but I'm choosing to let it go. I'm choosing to be a part of your life, Snow, to be a family with you, and I'm also choosing to be a part of Regina's life, to be a family with her and with Henry. So, you need to let it go, too. I know that you and David love me, and I love you both, too. I really do, but you need to realize that neither of you are perfect. You need to realize that there's no such thing as good or evil. Nothing is that simple. You need to not push me to be your perfect princess, because I'm never going to be what you expect of me. You need to stay out of my business until I'm ready to share it with you, if I'm _ever _ready to share it with you, but most of all, Snow, you _need_ to back off of Regina. She has changed, even if you refuse to see it. She is the mother of my son, and she is important to me, so give it a freaking rest already and let it the hell go."

The tension in the air was so defined that it felt nearly tangible as if any one of them could reach out and pluck it from the spaces separating them. All three women were a mess of emotion, all of their insecurities and their fears and their worries and their beliefs prickling openly on their flesh as they fought to remain grounded in that moment, as they fought to keep from allowing those emotions to carry them away and down a path that would bring only more pain. Snow swallowed thickly, her heart a mangled, shredded mass in her chest after hearing her daughter's words. Tears slipped from her eyes though she refused to look at Emma. She couldn't. The blonde's words had hit her like a barrage of bullets, tearing through her vital organs and promising pain, promising death. She felt as if she could literally die in that moment, in the agony of the revelation and in the haunting of the truth that danced in her daughter's confession.

Snow lifted a hand to cover her mouth, holding back the sob that threatened to spill forth, as she simply turned away from the two women and walked slowly back to her car. Emma watched her go, every cell in her body bidding her to run after the woman and apologize and try to fix all that had just happened between them because at the end of the day, Snow was her mother and Emma knew that the woman truly did love her more than anything, but she also knew that Snow had needed a reality check. She just hated that she had had to be the one to provide it, but if she wanted to have Snow and have Regina as well, then difficult decisions had to be made, and harsh words had to be spilled.

Emma simply knew, she had learned, that that was the way of the world—to have your heart's desire, you had to go through hell and back to find it, you had to suffer in your struggle to obtain it, and then you had fight like hell to keep it, because whoever it was that said that the best things in life are free was terribly mistaken. The best things in life weren't all fluff and perfection. The best things in life were the things that painfully scorched across your heart and burned you down to your thinnest layer of hope, because that was truly the only way that you ever came to realize and fully appreciate just how beautiful and precious those things were when you finally were reborn from the ashes. No, the best things in life certainly weren't free. They came at a price far beyond what most were ever prepared to pay.

Regina pulled Emma back into the mansion and gently closed the door behind them. She leaned heavily into the white wood and watched the blonde closely. Her own emotions were a powerful, heady concoction of all that was roaring and rocking within her, so she could only imagine what the Sheriff must be feeling. No one had ever supported her in such a way nor had anyone ever admitted that there were others to blame beyond her. They all lumped it on her shoulders just as they had always done, even in the Enchanted Forest before the Curse had ever even been cast. It was a beautiful, freeing experience to hear Emma acknowledge as much and to Snow, no less, who undoubtedly needed to hear the words more than anyone, except maybe Charming—Regina had begun to think the man was a lost cause, though, so she didn't bother to allow him any concern.

What had truly stricken the brunette, though, was that Emma had chosen to stay with her rather than go with her mother. That truly had shocked her, that the Sheriff had chosen _her_ of all people over the ever-pure, ever-_good_ Snow White. They were two entirely different ends of the spectrum and Regina knew that Emma fell somewhere between them, somewhere beautifully in the middle. She embodied all that was light and all that was dark in one precious person and Regina was constantly in awe of her.

Emma's words were still ringing in her ears, and though she wanted to let the blonde have a moment to compose herself or to simply be, Regina also needed clarity. She needed reassurance, and so she quietly asked the question that was singing vibrantly in her mind. "Emma," she said, pushing off the door to stand closer to the blonde and gaze into those comforting, emerald eyes that offered her so much—safety, stability, affection, acceptance, trust, and more_. _"Did you mean what you said—that you wanted…" God, why was she suddenly so nervous. This was Emma, Emma who owned her heart, who she honestly believed she could share anything with. She shook off her nerves and finished her question, "…that you wanted to be a _family_ with me and with Henry?"

The Sheriff smiled sweetly at the question as tears still slipped from her eyes, her confrontation with her mother unsettled and rolling warily within her. She reached out for one of Regina's beautiful, slender hands and held it in the space between them, squeezing gently as she answered. "We already are, Regina," she said softly. "You and Henry…you _are_ my family."

Regina smiled shyly at that, though a hint of fear still flickered in her eyes, which Emma, of course, did not miss. "Hey," the blonde said, squeezing the woman's hand again, "don't look so scared, okay? I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

The brunette swallowed thickly, clenching closed her eyes as she took in those words and Emma's promise. It was a promise she had never thought she would ever receive and it now sang in her blood like a remedy for all the darkness that resided there. "But what about what your mother said? She was right, Emma. You never would have had to endure the awful things you have if I had not cast the Curse. You should hate me."

"Hey, don't," Emma objected, pulling Regina into her and wrapping her arms around the petite brunette's figure. "Don't say that and don't think it either. I know you feel guilty, and yeah, some bad shit did happen to me, but I don't wish for a second that you hadn't cast the Curse, Regina."

"You don't?" Regina asked, her voice muffled as she buried her face in the crook of Emma's neck.

"Nope," Emma answered her. "Without the Curse, Regina, I wouldn't have Henry. _We _wouldn't have Henry, and I wouldn't have you."

The words sank into Regina beautifully, reminding her of the blessings she now had in her life, unexpected blessings that she truly had never believed would be in the cards for her, though she was grateful beyond measure nonetheless. She certainly wouldn't trade Henry for anything in the world, and she would never give Emma up either now that her heart was so intricately woven into the blonde's, but she still felt the guilt swirling deeply within her. She was sick with it and feared it might never pass. She leaned back and looked into Emma's eyes and whispered, "But how can you forgive me? So many terrible things happened to you. You were forced into a life you never wanted, and you were just a child, Emma. You were innocent."

Emma sighed heavily and brought a hand up to tenderly cup the brunette's cheek as tears slipped sweetly from both their eyes. "So were you, Regina."


	12. Chapter 12: All That Lingers

**I am loving that you are all so proud of Regina for not punching Snow. I am proud of her, too! **

**Just a quick trigger warning: This chapter contains an extremely vivid depiction of sexual assault/rape, and there will discussion about said assault afterwards in the NEXT chapter, ch. 13. So, if you are unable to read it or uncomfortable doing so, you will want to avoid this chapter and the next probably.**

**This chapter is extremely heavy and A LOT will be revealed, but we **_**are**_** on the precipice of the good feels, my friends. Hold tight, it's coming. **** XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Twelve: All That Lingers

_ "So were you, Regina."_

Regina gasped quietly as the words slipped across Emma's lips. No one had ever acknowledged as much before. No one had _ever _seen her as the innocent girl she once had been, the girl beaten and abused by an overbearing mother, the girl forced into a marriage to an elder King who took what he pleased and offered nothing in return, the girl who lost her hope, her faith, and her light in every possible way until she felt she had no escape but to retaliate. No one had ever seen her in the light of innocence, in the light of being someone who once was pure and once was beautiful—darkened and jaded by those who chose to break her.

Regina simply had no words in that moment. The single acknowledgement spilled into her, melting through her pores to travel the current of her veins and wake that lost and lonely, trembling girl that still lived so deep within her. In that moment, with those four words, Regina completely and utterly broke—cracked and crumbled in the most riveting and most beautiful way she could have ever imagined or hoped for.

A sob instantly ripped from her throat as a hand shot up to cover her mouth and tears spilled over her lids feverishly, scorching trails across her cheeks. She fell heavily into the woman in front of her and just let herself be held as the memories flooded through her, as the pain overwhelmed her. She let herself feel it. She let herself feel every burning moment that still ached harshly in her heart, and then, for the first time in her long life, Regina finally let it go. She let it go like a breath she had been holding for decades, a breath that had been stinging and screaming in her chest since childhood, a breath that now felt so freeing as it forcefully shot through her lips and expelled all that she had only ever kept locked inside her.

Emma held tight, as tightly as she could as Regina shook fiercely in her arms. She knew the woman needed this. She had always seen it in the former mayor's eyes—those chocolate depths swirling with the kind of stories that only a kindred spirit would ever recognize, and since they began this journey of sharing, Emma had only been waiting for the floodgates to crumble. She had been waiting for Regina to break, waiting for Regina to open herself fully and allow her darkest spots to show, allow her deepest fears and most unsettling memories to rush forward and finally free her of her endless suffering.

She held her as one would hold onto their most treasured possession, and while she certainly would never consider Regina a possession, Emma did secretly like to think of the woman as hers, even if she had yet to voice such a feeling aloud, even if they had yet to delve into feelings that might exist beyond this timid, yet beautiful friendship they had created together. Emma stroked a hand through Regina's soft, chocolate locks as the woman's heaving sobs began to slow and even out in their ragged rhythm. She could feel Regina's fingernails as they dug into her skin through her slim tank top, the woman clutching roughly to her, but she didn't mind. She wanted to be needed by the former mayor.

She found that even after a lifetime of running, when all she had ever known or desired was escape, Emma finally felt like standing still. She wanted to be the steady, the constant in Regina's life, especially in the brunette's darkest moments, because in those moments, when Regina was most vulnerable, when she was most honest, was when Emma could look at her and see all the best reasons for carrying on. In those moments, Regina was so fucking beautiful that Emma felt as if the entire world could burn to ash with her standing atop it, and she still would be grateful even if the flames enveloped her, even if she died in the fire. She would happily welcome her final breath in the wake of such beauty—that was the wonder of finally seeing someone's soul. She was so moved by the moment that she could hardly breathe.

When Regina finally fully relaxed, her cries only soft hiccupping gasps against Emma's chest, the blonde only continued to hold her. She didn't say a word, but instead, she surprised the brunette thoroughly by bending at the knees and swiftly pulling Regina up into her arms, bridal style. She carried the woman upstairs and to Regina's bedroom, the very place she had run from weeks prior. Regina, though surprised at first, only wrapped her arms around the blonde's neck and let herself be held, let herself be carried, because in that moment, she didn't care. She couldn't feel anything beyond the exhaustion in her bones, having broken down so thoroughly, so completely, so wonderfully after years of holding it all in. She felt safe in Emma's arms, a feeling she had never truly known and reveled in now.

Emma laid Regina atop the silken softness of the massive bed in the master bedroom and settled down beside her. They laid side by side, their hands reaching unconsciously forward to connect in the small space separating them, and just stared into one another. For a long time, neither of the women uttered a word, before Regina timidly whispered, "My mother was cruel."

Emma said nothing, only squeezing the brunette's hand to encourage her to continue, to share more. Regina sighed, her cheeks still wet from before, and closed her eyes as she began to divulge the many secrets she kept hidden deep within the blackness of her darker memories. "She was heartless, literally," Regina continued in a soft voice. "She ripped her own heart out before I was ever born, and because of it, I think…I think she was never able to love me, but I was warped by the promise of her affection, desperate for it even though it never came. She first used magic on me when I was seven. It was a punishment for speaking out of turn. That was the first time, but it certainly was not the last. Even the simplest of actions would stir her anger, incur her wrath. She would conjure vines and branches to bind me, magical whips that would tear into my back only to mend the wounds and repeat. I learned…I learned to be silent, to be perfect after a while. Sometimes, I can still hear her voice inside my head."

Emma's heart ached fiercely in her chest as she listened to Regina's story, every inch of her screaming for the woman's pain, screaming her own anger at the tyrant that was the brunette's mother. She squeezed Regina's hand again and quietly asked, "And your father?"

Regina's eyes clenched harder at the mention of her father, tears breaking through her lashes once more as she took in a ragged breath and answered. "I loved my father dearly, but he was a coward. He was afraid of her. We both were. He never protected me, and I think a part of me died inside because of it. I never forgave him for that, even though I never stopped loving him. When I met Daniel, I fell for him instantly, and I think my father knew. He would imply as much to me in private, though he always seemed encouraging of our growing love; however, we both knew if Mother were to find out…" Her voice cracked audibly as the memory of Daniel's death flooded back to her with the force of a raging tidal wave.

"The day I saved your mother from that horse, I never expected…" Regina took a heavy breath as her tears continued to fall, her hand now clutching Emma's desperately. "I never dreamed that it would change _everything_, but it did. It all happened so quickly after that. Your mother clung to me. She was infatuated, I think, with the idea of having someone, anyone, to replace her own mother, even though I was only six years older than her, and that only fueled her father's request for my hand in marriage. My mother accepted for me despite my pleading with her that I did not wish to marry the king, that I did not wish for power or for riches, that I wanted only to be free. When Snow found Daniel and I in the stables, I was terrified, and despite trusting her with that secret, the feeling of dread that followed never left me. My mother…she ripped his heart out right in front of me and crushed it. I tried…I tried, God Emma, I tried so hard to save him, and I just couldn't. I couldn't bring him back. She told me that love was weakness, that I would learn to let him go and embrace the life I was always born to have, the life I never wanted."

"But you didn't," Emma interjected softly. "You never let go of him."

"No…" Regina answered in a whisper, her chocolate eyes fluttering open to meet bleary, misted emerald. "I couldn't. He was my first love. In my mind, I think Daniel always embodied everything that I once was, and I always found it so difficult to let go, but I think I finally have moved into acceptance. I think maybe…I am learning to love again."

"I think you are, Regina," Emma told her, smiling softly as tears slipped over her thin, pink lips, the weight of the former mayor's suffering and sadness washing through her painfully. "The way you love Henry is beautiful. You give so much of yourself to him. You have changed so much of yourself for him. I hope you know that I see that, that Henry sees that. It hasn't gone unnoticed."

"Thank you, Emma," the former mayor whispered. They lay there together, holding hands in the silence, as they melted into the reverie of finally being open and finally being understood. It was a precious gift they both had given each other, a gift both cherished more than their words would ever allow them to say.

"Regina?" Emma said softly, quietly, after several long moments of blissful silence. She timidly took a breath, squeezed the brunette's hand, and asked, "Can I stay with you?"

"Please," Regina whispered, her eyes falling closed once more as sleep called to her. They fell into the rhythm of the silence together once more, both reaching for the slumber that danced outside their exhaustion as their fingers remained clutching, tangled sweetly in the tender space that whispered softly between them.

* * *

Regina was instantly shaken from sleep as the body that had previously been peaceful beside her now thrashed and screamed violently in the glow of the late afternoon light streaming through her bedroom windows. They had slept nearly all day, taken by their exhaustion, but now Regina was wide awake, terrified though knowing as she reached for the blonde beside her.

"Emma," she said softly, though her tender voice was not enough to break through the Sheriff's tortured dreams. Emma sobbed heavily in her sleep, her arms pushing at only empty air as she fought her invisible attacker. Regina's heart clenched madly in her chest at the scene. She had a feeling she knew exactly what the blonde was dreaming about, and she wanted only to save her from the images that were surely ripping through the woman's mind at that exact moment. "Emma!" she tried again, louder, shaking the Sheriff's shoulders to try and wake her as the blonde's cries sank into Regina's flesh. "EMMA!" she finally screamed.

Emerald eyes shot open and pale arms immediately shoved violently at the woman who was clutching the Sheriff's shoulders. In a blur, Emma shot from the bed and her back collided roughly with Regina's closet door as she fought to get away from the ghost of her dream, of her memories. "Don't touch me!" she screamed into the air, though she was now unsure of whom she was screaming at. She clawed at her skin as she dropped heavily to the ground, curling into a fetal position on the floor as waves of shame and humiliation racked her body.

Regina's tears came fast and furious as she watched the blonde revert into a childlike state in her bedroom floor, screaming to be left untouched, unmarred by the man who had violated her in her past. The former mayor rose to her knees on the mattress and moved to the edge of the bed. She put her hands out in front of her in a show of meaning the woman no harm and calmly said, "Emma, it's me. It's only me, Regina, okay?"

The Sheriff continued to sob heavily into the floor as her forehead rested against it. She sighed roughly through her ragged cries as a low, crippling moan crawled up from her throat and through her lips. She rocked back and forth as the dream still flooded through her mind, the images refusing to fade.

"Emma," Regina tried again, moving cautiously off the bed and onto her knees once more, only this time on the floor. She stayed on the floor near the bed, not wanting to move toward the blonde for fear that she would only frighten her further. The Sheriff's eyes were clenched tightly closed as she rocked into the floor, and Regina cried openly for her, though she did her best to keep her composure, to keep her voice warm and soft. "Emma, open your eyes," she commanded quietly. "Open your eyes."

She waited, hoping her words had broken through the images trapping the blonde inside a memory, a dream that refused to melt away even after waking. After several long moments, she nearly cried out with her relief as she watched emerald eyes flutter open once more and turn to face her. "Hi," Regina said softly, smiling sadly but sweetly at her. Her heart pounded fiercely with her understanding and with her growing love for the woman before her. Even seeing her despaired and broken this way, reduced to the terrified child that still danced in her dreams, Regina could only adore her. She wanted only to protect her. She wanted Emma to know that she understood and that it changed nothing about how she felt about her.

"Hi," Emma whispered after a moment, her voice so quiet that Regina barely caught it.

Regina sighed her relief as that single word touched her beautifully. She had broken through. "May I come closer?" she asked softly, and when the Sheriff nodded in answer, she slowly made her way across the floor until she was within an inch of the blonde. "It was only a dream, Emma. You are safe here," she whispered to the trembling woman, and though her fingers itched to touch Emma, to soothe her, she kept her hands to herself, anxious of pushing the woman further away, of frightening her further. Just then, though, Emma lifted her shaking body from the floor and crawled right into Regina's lap like a terrified child.

Regina wrapped her arms around the blonde and held her as a tangled heap of golden curls nestled in the crook of her neck. She ran her hands soothingly up and down Emma's back and rocked her. "You are safe here," she repeated softly. "You are safe with me, Emma."

After a long while, Emma finally lifted her head from Regina's shoulder, and reached up both hands to wipe her cheeks clean of her tears. She shifted from the brunette's lap, but quickly reached for Regina's hand and held onto it tightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered to the former mayor, but Regina's hand quickly shot up and a slender finger rested atop Emma's lips.

"Do not dare apologize, Emma," Regina told her firmly. "Do not ever feel ashamed or embarrassed or humiliated by this. Do you understand me?"

Fresh tears slipped from emerald eyes as she nodded slowly before quietly asking, "Do you have a pen and some paper I could use? I just…I need to get it out."

Regina said nothing, only flicking a wrist in answer. A pen and a notebook appeared instantly in Emma's lap and the blonde couldn't help the smile that graced her lips. "Thank you," she told Regina as she reached out to squeeze the woman's hand again.

"You are most welcome," Regina told her with a small smile and a wink. "Take all the time you need. I am going to take a quick shower, and then I will make us some dinner. Okay?" Emma nodded in answer and Regina ran a loving hand across the blonde's cheek before leaning over to plant a tender kiss to Emma's forehead. She rose to her feet and headed into the master bathroom, clicking the door closed gently behind her just as the sound of a pen scratching paper filtered through the room.

* * *

When Regina emerged from her shower and entered her bedroom, Emma was gone. Panic flooded her chest as she thought that the woman had run again, too terrified to face her break-down, to face the memories that still swirled in her mind, but then she heard the clinking of glass echo from downstairs and was instantly relieved. Emma hadn't left after all.

Regina quickly moved to dress herself, but a flash of white caught her eye as she crossed to the closet. She turned back to her bed to find the notebook she had only just provided Emma laying open on the mattress. The former mayor moved over to the bed and glanced at the open notebook, only to see her own name written on the page adjacent to a new poem. It seemed that the blonde had left her a note.

The brunette quickly scanned the note, which read: "_Regina, I think I'm ready to talk about it now. I just wrote this. Read it and then meet me in the kitchen. XO-E." _

Regina took a deep, steadying breath before she sat atop the mattress, still wrapped in only a towel, and took the notebook in her hands. She knew before she ever even laid eyes on the piece that the contents were going to greatly affect her, were going to unravel her entirely with Emma's pain, but this was something that the blonde needed, and perhaps that Regina herself needed as well. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat, and though she was alone, she began to read the poem quietly aloud as she had grown accustomed to doing:

"_I still feel you._

_You linger on my skin,_

_creep within my quiet places,_

_fill the silence of the growing spaces_

_inside my fractured spirit._

_You are the disease_

_that courses in my veins,_

_the seeping, spreading, scorching stains_

_born atop your fingertips_

_that forever taint me,_

_forever paint me with your memory,_

_lucid and violent,_

_both silent and screaming._

_You spill into sweet moments of dreaming_

_and turn them black and sour,_

_teach me to cower beneath the ghost_

_of your weight_

_that I still feel when I lay on my back,_

_when I hold my breath and close_

_my eyes, and wait for you to attack_

_my innocence._

_I still can feel your breath, hot_

_and reeking against my cheek, against_

_my neck, against the flesh of the broken,_

_beaten, berated wreck _

_you happily painted me as._

_I still can feel you_

_pushing, groping,_

_reaching, touching,_

_clutching onto my sides _

_as you anchored yourself_

_inside my tearing flesh_

_and taught me how best_

_to hate myself."_

Regina clutched her chest tightly as the words burned through her, melting every inch. The words were like liquid death, seeping into her cells and promising torture. Her head spun with the knowledge, with the imagery that now rapidly flooded her mind. This is what Emma had endured, and this is what she had been dreaming of when Regina had woken to find her thrashing and screaming in her sleep. Nothing had ever quite clutched onto Regina's heart, her soul, as violently as this, not even Daniel's death. She simply could not shake the sickness dancing nauseatingly on her flesh as she re-read the words and let them rock and roll within her. How was she ever going to manage the discussion she knew she was about to have with the Sheriff who now waited for her in her kitchen? How was Emma going to manage it? They both would break beneath the weight of it—of that much, Regina was sure; but at least, she thought, they could break together.

She quickly dressed into a silken set of pajamas, not bothering with formal clothes as the day was winding down anyway, and headed down to the kitchen, painfully holding her breath every step of the way.


	13. Chapter 13: A Release, A Promise

**Again, just a quick reminder: Trigger warning for a detailed account of sexual assault/rape INVOLVING A MINOR, and also a warning for a detailed account of marital rape. VERY DETAILED, so if you feel uncomfortable or are unable to read it, then avoid this chapter. This is going to be very, very hard to read, but it is important that Regina and Emma share this with each other. It is the final step in them moving forward, moving on. **

Chapter Thirteen: A Release, A Promise

As Regina came down the grand staircase of the mayoral mansion, she could hear Emma's voice echoing from the kitchen, and her brow furrowed in confusion. Who was the woman speaking to? As far as Regina was aware, they were alone; at least, they better be. If Snow had returned, Regina might have to pay back that punch to the face in full. It had been difficult enough to keep her magic at bay the first time around. She had healed the cut on the inside of her cheek and the bruise on her jaw just before she had gotten in the shower, but that didn't make her any less furious with the woman.

The former mayor rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, instantly relieved to see that the Sheriff was indeed quite alone, her phone pressed to her ear and a small, simple, yet beautiful smile stretching her lips. Regina immediately knew who was on the other end of the line, as she had only ever seen the blonde smile that way at their son. She walked around Emma as the Sheriff continued talking with the boy and poured herself a mug of coffee from the fresh pot that Emma had thankfully made. God, she could use a boost, especially after all that had happened that morning and all that she knew was about to happen once she and Emma dove into the conversation that the blonde was finally ready and willing to have.

She turned to the blonde and mouthed a silent _Thank you,_ as she motioned to the coffee,to which Emma only nodded and offered her a simple smile. Regina sipped her coffee eagerly as she listened to Emma's side of the conversation and smiled as she imagined her son on the other end.

"Well, that's what it's like taking care of animals, kid. You gotta deal with the mess that goes along with them. You're the one that wanted to learn to ride a horse, so don't complain about having to clean out the stall," Regina heard the blonde say, and a smirk graced her lips as she could just hear Henry's complaints in her mind. The boy loved horses. In that regard, he was much like her, but like Emma, he hated the responsibility that came with them. The Sheriff wouldn't be caught dead on a horse and had made that blatantly clear whenever Regina and David had agreed to give Henry riding lessons a year ago.

"Ugh, Henry! That's gross! I don't need to know what color it was or what it smelled like," Emma said, her features scrunching and contorting with disgust. Regina simply could not help herself and burst into a loud round of laughter, instantly bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as Emma shot her a glare.

"What? Yeah, that was your mom laughing. Geez, you knew it was her just from a laugh?" The Sheriff glanced up at Regina to see those chocolate eyes smiling beautifully at her as the former mayor continued to enjoy the one side of the conversation she was overhearing. Emma's heart fluttered beautifully in her chest as they locked gazes, the smile in Regina's eyes warming her from the inside out.

"Oh yeah, I forgot, she's your _mom_. Sorry, should have been obvious," Emma said dryly, and Regina could only imagine her son's voice dripping with the sarcasm he had obviously inherited from her. She smirked at Emma and received yet another playful glare.

"No, kid. We're just hangin' out. We've got some things to discuss. I should be back later, but maybe not till morning depending on how long it takes. Is that okay? You'll be fine with your grandparents, right?" Regina watched the Sheriff intensely as the conversation shifted from playful teasing to something more serious. She could see it in the way Emma's emerald eyes hardened, looking suddenly painful as she listened to whatever their son was going on about on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, your grandma just had a rough day today, but she'll be okay, Henry, I promise. Just be super sweet to her, okay? Okay, good. You wanna talk to your mom?" Emma asked the boy, and Regina's eyes lit up once more as she instantly held her hand out for the phone, eager to hear her son's voice. She felt as if she hadn't seen him in ages, even though it had only been two days. Emma smiled and handed Regina the phone before taking a long drink of her coffee, which was thankfully still hot.

"Hi Henry," Regina said sweetly as she pressed the phone to her ear, though her eyes never left Emma's, the two of them drinking each other in from across the kitchen island.

_"Hey Mom, so did you tell her yet?" _Henry's small voice replied, spilling through the speaker and into Regina's ear, which only made the brunette smile more. She wasn't sure as to what exactly Henry was referring, but she was wise enough to know it was probably something she was not yet ready to voice aloud, so she spoke around the specifics in order to avoid revealing anything too telling to the blonde sitting across from her.

"To what are you referring dear?" Regina asked cryptically, still watching the blonde, though Emma now seemed entirely enamored with her coffee and completely distracted by its warmth, closing her eyes reverently as she look long, languid sips.

_"You know, Mom! Emma! Did you tell her that you love her yet?" _Henry piped up excitedly, his voice echoing rather loudly across the line. Regina came damn close to spitting her searing coffee all over the blonde in front of her, and had to cough several times just to breathe after forcing herself to swallow down the black liquid and choking heavily on it. _"Mom? Are you okay?" _Henry asked as he heard Regina's coughing fit.

"Yes, I'm fine, dear," Regina finally managed to say, though her voice was rough with the tightness in her throat after choking and coughing so forcefully. She glanced up at Emma quickly to find the blonde staring at her concernedly. Emma arched an eyebrow at her, but Regina just waved it off and turned her attention to her phone conversation once more. "We will have to talk about that when you return home, Henry."

_"Fine," _Henry told her, _"but I'm only dropping it because she's totally in the room with you right now, isn't she?" _

"Yes, dear," Regina replied, offering the blonde a tightlipped smile as Emma continued to stare her down. Their son really was a wicked little devil at times—that, too, he must have inherited from her. "I have to go now Henry, but I love you, and I will see you Wednesday evening. Okay, goodnight."

Regina pressed the button to end the call and handed the Sheriff's phone back to her, while momentarily avoiding eye contact. It didn't seem as if the blonde had overheard any of what their son had said, but Regina still swallowed heavily and commanded herself not to blush, pushing away all thoughts of her son's words and choosing, instead, to focus on her coffee, which she all but chugged just to distract herself.

"You alright?" Emma asked her, to which Regina only nodded. She certainly was not ready to go down that path, and was most definitely not going to have that discussion with the blonde, at least not yet. She wasn't even really sure how she felt about Emma. She cared about her deeply, yes, and she certainly desired the woman, but love? Love was a heavy word and an even heavier experience. She didn't even know if she truly had the strength to love again and be loved in returned, but god, she hoped she did. She hoped she could have that, and if she was truly being honest with herself, she hoped she could have it with Emma.

The brunette walked around the island and seated herself on the stool next to the Sheriff. Both women simply stared into their coffee mugs for several long moments, neither knowing what to say or how to begin.

"So," Regina said quietly, finally breaking the growing tension of the silence, "I read your poem." She left the statement open-ended, not wanting to rush the process or make the woman feel cornered or obligated to speak. She just wanted to let Emma know that she was there and willing to listen if the blonde was truly ready to share.

Emma was beginning to regret her decision to go forward with this discussion now that she had had time to think it over. It wasn't that she didn't want to share with Regina or that she felt she couldn't trust her, because she had never trusted anyone more in her life, but she was just terrified of going down that path. The memories haunted her even when she didn't talk about them, so she could only imagine what sort of mess she would be by the end of this conversation if she decided to go forward with it.

Regina, sensing Emma's internal struggle, silently reached a hand across the small space separating them and placed it atop one of the blonde's. She squeezed Emma's hand and offered her a gentle smile before softly saying, "You don't have to talk about it, Emma."

"No, I want to," Emma sighed, raising the hand that wasn't currently laced with Regina's up to cradle her own chin as she leaned heavily on the island. "I mean, I don't _want _to talk about it, you know, but I do. I _need _to. I need you to know."

"Why do you need for me to know?" Regina asked, though she nodded in understanding.

"Because…I don't know," Emma said exasperatedly, "I just do. I feel like I need for you to know everything, and I mean, I know you'll never judge me, but I'm afraid that it might change what you think of me. I know that sounds stupid because I've told you all this other shit and you're still here, but this…I've always felt so ashamed of this and humiliated by it, and I guess I just don't want you to see me like that. I don't want you to see me as a victim, to think of me as helpless. Does that make sense?"

Regina shook her head and said, "Emma, I have told you. Nothing you say could make me think less of you."

"I know," Emma said, her voice suddenly sounding so small again, just as it had after her breakdown upstairs just a short while prior. "I know that. It's just….I don't…god, I don't know. I…Regina, I…" She tried desperately to find the right words to express her insecurity, to express all that was rumbling within her, but she couldn't. Her words and emotions were all a jumbled heap of insanity inside her, and she could hardly focus on one thing at a time, let alone clearly express herself.

Regina smiled softly at the blonde before taking a deep, steadying breath and summoning as much courage as she could muster. As much as she truly dreaded doing what she was about to do, she felt it was the only way to help Emma to feel truly comfortable enough to take that final step and talk about that particular horror of her past. Regina squeezed Emma's hand tightly and began her own story, hoping that the blonde would find comfort and solace in her understanding once she heard the words.

"When my mother married me off to Leopold, he was fifty-four years old and I was eighteen. I was still a virgin," Regina told her softly, and though her nerves were buzzing beneath her flesh and nausea was screaming in her gut, she anchored herself in those emerald eyes and pushed through it. "Daniel and I…we never…Anyway, on the night of my wedding, I was escorted to the King's chambers by the castle maids. When we arrived, I was still in my wedding gown, and the maids escorted me to stand beside the marriage bed where the King was already waiting. They closed and locked the doors, but I was completely horrified to realize that five soldiers of the King's royal guard remained within the chambers as well as the three maids that had escorted me. Leopold's men stood guard at the door and watched as the maids cut my wedding gown down the back. It fell to the floor followed by corset and undergarments as those, too, were cut away, so that I was made to stand naked in front of the maids, the King, and the King's men. It was humiliating."

Tears slipped from emerald eyes as Emma gritted and ground her teeth and squeezed Regina's hand fiercely. This man was her fucking grandfather! How could anyone do that to _anybody, _let alone such a young woman, a young _innocent _woman, to force her to be stripped and bared in front of so many people. It was horrid and vile and made Emma's stomach churn uncomfortably. At first, she didn't know why Regina had begun to tell this story, but now she knew. The woman was providing her comfort, understanding, letting Emma know that she was not alone in the horrors she had endured as a child. Emma thought she had never respected this woman more, and all she wanted was to forget about all of this and just kiss the brunette until both their pain fell away, forgotten and gone. But she knew that that was impossible. This…this had to be done.

"The King pulled me onto the bed and forced me to stay atop the sheets so that my body would be visible. He spread my legs to make a show of me to his men. They encouraged him, smiling and laughing as he disrobed. There were no words and no warning when he immediately thrust into me. The pain was terrible. I could feel my skin tearing with the invasion, and though I tried not to scream, I couldn't help it. One of the maids crawled into the bed behind me and clamped a hand over my mouth so that I could not scream again. He slammed into me roughly only four times before he finished. I remember every single violent thrust, every burning inch, and every disgusting grunt from his foul mouth as if it happened just yesterday and it has now been several decades since. When he climaxed, he cried out his late wife's name and then pushed me from the bed and sent me back to the maids. They draped a robe around my shoulders and I was made to walk that way through the corridor and back to my own chambers, my own blood and his foul seed still running down my thighs."

Tears slipped silently down Regina's cheeks, but her voice never once wavered. She was a proud woman, and Emma saw so much strength in her that her heart was full with it. Regina continued to anchor herself in Emma's eyes. She siphoned every ounce of strength she found there and clung to it, even as the blonde trembled with every word Regina spoke. Emma could hardly stand what she was hearing. She felt deeply humiliated by her own experiences, but she had never been made to endure them in front of an audience that had the audacity to laugh at her and encourage such sickness. The Sheriff clenched her jaw as she clenched Regina's hand, biting into her cheek until the taste of copper flooded her mouth.

"Every time after that, I would be escorted to the King's chambers, and once he finished, I was dismissed and returned to my own chambers. He never spoke a word but to call out his late wife's name, unless he was angered. Several times, he would find himself unable to perform, and for this, he berated me. He never laid a hand to me in retaliation as his precious Snow would surely notice and he wished to remain the god that he was in her eyes, but his words were rather harsh. On those nights, I was a poor man's whore and was not desirable enough for his bed or his body; I was a failed replacement for the woman he loved; I was a disgustingly incompetent child with no knowledge in how to properly please a man, especially a King such as he. I was any sharp word he could find on his tongue to recover his pride at being unable to perform. When he had his fill of degrading me, he would dismiss me back to my chambers. It was that way nearly thrice weekly until the day he died."

"How did he die?" Emma asked quietly as she held the sobs now tangled in her throat at bay. She did not want to lose it when Regina was so composed, so proud, so incredibly beautiful and strong.

"I killed him," Regina answered without even blinking an eye, not a hint of remorse in her voice, and Emma could not blame her a bit. "_Well_, I had him killed. I didn't actually kill him myself, but I did order the kill. It is the one death I brought about that I have never once regretted or even thought on afterwards. I have no remorse for his death, and I truly believe he deserved much worse. Now, does _that_ change what you think of _me_?"

"No," Emma answered immediately, her voice cracked and ragged as she finally allowed herself to cry openly. "Regina, I…I'm so sorry for what he did to you, and I don't mean that as pity. I just mean…truly…I'm sorry."

Emma admired Regina's strength so much as the woman simply nodded and lifted a hand to wipe her tears away. She watched as the former mayor cleared her throat and straightened her back and met her gaze with blazing chocolate eyes. Emma loved Regina's pride and her strength, but the woman didn't need to be so strong in front of her, and the blonde wanted her to know that much. She wanted to thank her for sharing her story, as horrible as it was, because she knew without a doubt that that was one of the biggest steps Regina had ever taken with another person and one of the bravest things she had probably ever done, and Emma knew that Regina had only done it for her. She had done it to make her feel safe and comfortable and understood. How could Emma ever thank her enough for that? She knew she never could, but that didn't mean that she would ever stop trying.

The Sheriff slid off her stool without a word and used their joined hands to pull Regina forward, off of her own stool, and into her arms. Emma wrapped her arms tightly around Regina and buried her face in the woman's soft, chocolate locks, breathing her in as her heart beat fiercely in her chest, growing more and more attached to the woman who had miraculously helped her to finally open herself up and let someone inside.

Regina sank into Emma's embrace and reveled in the warmth and the comfort of it. Tears slipped from her eyes as she laid her head atop the blonde's shoulder and squeezed her as tightly as possible. Even after revealing one of the darkest, most humiliating moments of her life, Regina had never felt more peaceful than she did at that moment. She felt so incredibly, so wondrously safe in Emma's arms that she felt she still would be at peace even if the world crumbled around them right inside that moment.

The silence that surrounded them was comfortable and precious, but Regina's heart fluttered wildly in her chest when Emma's quiet whisper sang into her ear, the Sheriff's breath ghosting heatedly over her neck. "You are so beautiful, Regina," Emma whispered to the woman as she kept her head buried in Regina's hair and they stood holding each other in the middle of the brunette's kitchen. "And you're so strong," she continued, "and you're so…god, you're so _everything_."

Regina took a heavy breath, her heart now pounding like a war drum as it threatened the confines of her chest with her joy at hearing those words whispered from the Sheriff's lips. She clenched her eyes tightly closed as fresh tears spilled forth and she whispered back to the blonde, "So are you, Emma."

It was in that moment that Regina realized she had been wrong; she _was _able to love again, and she did. Every ounce of her being screamed inside of her that she loved Emma Swan, that she had never loved another, not even Daniel, as deeply as she did the blonde. The feeling overwhelmed her, yet she reveled in it. She cherished it. She ached to let it out, but she held her tongue. She wanted to allow Emma to come to _her_ if the Sheriff felt the same as she did. She wanted to allow Emma to make the first move and have the first say in how they approached this, if they approached this. She didn't want to push her or make her feel rushed or forced. She wanted only to be there with Emma, truthfully in any capacity, though her heart longed for more.

"I don't want to let go," Emma told her quietly.

"So don't," Regina answered, her entire body floating even as she remained footed to the kitchen floor.

"I want to tell you about my past now," Emma whispered, her voice trembling even as it was breathless, "but I…I don't want to let go, and I honestly don't even know if I'll have the strength to get through this, which is seriously sad considering all that you just told me without even breaking down once, but I think I can do it if I just hold on to you, if I can be grounded by your touch. So, I'm saying I don't want to let go. I can't. Is that okay?"

"Okay," Regina agreed quietly, simply adjusting her footing to gain more comfort while her arms tightened more firmly around the blonde. They stood there, locked in an embrace in the middle of Regina's kitchen, surrounded by only the silence as Emma slowly began to whisper her story into the former mayor's waiting ear.

"It was my sixth family in the foster system," she said, her heart already beating forcefully in her chest as she dreaded all that she was about to say, but she felt safe in Regina's arms, so she clung to the woman and pressed on. "I always managed to get myself into trouble so that each family thought I was too much of a handful and sent me back or I'd be replaced with a younger kid or a biological baby, because they always take the cake over someone else's kid, or an older kid, you know?"

"Anyway, it was my sixth family—a married couple with no kids. They were pill-heads, and he was an alcoholic, though they put on a damn good show for the social worker in order to get me. The lady was pretty nice but she was also pretty strung out most of the time and didn't even have a clue what fucking universe she was in half the time, so I pretty much took care of myself while I was there. Got my own food and stuff. The first day I met them, though, I just knew that there was something off about the guy. The way he looked at me…it was like he was looking at a piece of pie or something, like he wanted to devour me. I didn't really know what to make of it at the time, but I figured any family was better than the group home."

"At the home, everyone always got bullied and we were forced to share beds that were way too small and were given rations of food that just weren't ever enough. I had gotten knocked around a few times by some of the families I'd lived with before but that really wasn't a big deal because I got knocked around at the group home too, by the older kids. I was pretty much used to it, so I figured at least I could kill some time away from the home with this family, and hopefully they'd just leave me alone and just enjoy their paycheck so that they could pay for their bad habits."

Regina felt Emma's arms suddenly grip so tightly around her that she could hardly breathe, but she held on just as tightly, both of them still standing motionless and locked around each other in her kitchen. Her stomach was writhing with her discomfort as she dreaded what was about to come out of the blonde's mouth but she knew Emma needed to get it out. She needed to tell someone. She needed to tell _her_. So, Regina clung to the woman, offering her comfort and support and waited for the words that she was sure would shred her from the inside out.

"Anyway, the fifth night that I was there, I heard him. The door creaked when he opened it and I could feel his eyes on me as he stood by the door and watched me. I pretended to be asleep, but I rarely slept through the night, even as a kid. He didn't say anything but I heard rustling sounds so I peeked over the top of the covers to see what he was doing and that's when I saw him taking his clothes off. I still didn't understand what was going on, but I knew that whatever it was, wasn't supposed to be happening. I remember the way the bed dipped and squeaked when he climbed onto it, hovering over me. He was a big guy. I don't think I've ever felt so small in all my life than when I was beneath him. He ripped the blanket off me and then he touched me, running his hands up and down my arms roughly. He told me that I had to be very quiet and that if I made any sound he would have to punish me, so I had better be a good girl."

Emma's voice was completely shredded and she now struggled to speak through her tears as she clenched her fists into Regina's pajama top and buried her face again in the brunette's hair. Her entire body trembled as she spoke and she could feel Regina's pulse pounding against their touching chests and in her neck as Emma rested against it.

"He left my t-shirt on but he pulled off my pajama pants and my panties and before I even realized what was really happening, I felt his hand between my legs. He shoved his fingers inside me and I remember screaming, but he slapped me across the face as soon as I did. I remember feeling like I was going to drown in my own tears. My face stung where he hit me and my body burned where he touched me and then the pain came, more pain than I ever thought possible, when he pulled his fingers out and thrust fully into me. He clamped a hand over my mouth immediately so that I wouldn't scream but I remember punching and slapping at him, just trying to get him to stop, trying to get the pain to stop, but it was like he couldn't even feel my fists, like they didn't even faze him."

Emma was now openly sobbing as her body went limp in Regina's arms, and she just let herself be held up by the woman, her fists still clenched tightly in Regina's clothes. She fought for every breath and to remain grounded enough to push through it, because she wasn't going to stop. Not now. Not when she had gone this far already. Not when she needed so desperately to get it out, to finally be fucking free of it.

"It felt like my insides were being split in two, torn and shredded and set on fire as he slammed into me. I remember his beard on my cheek, scratching my skin, and the smell of alcohol that washed over me when he put his full weight on me and grunted in my ear. He only lasted about a minute before he finished, and when he did, he carried me into the bathroom, put me in the shower and told me to clean myself up. He also made me promise never to tell anyone or he would make have to punish me, and then he left. As soon as he was gone, I remember I just sat on the floor of the shower and cried, the water around me was red and I was terrified that I might die because I was bleeding and I was in so much pain and I didn't know what to do. So after a while, I just washed myself and went back to bed. He had changed the sheets while I was in the shower; I guess to get rid of the evidence. I bled for three days off and on after that first time but eventually it stopped. He came into my room nearly every night for the five months that I lived there, but when he got busted with drugs, I was sent back to the home."

Regina's eyes were closed so tightly that the pain of her crushing lids made her head pound angrily as tears forced through the fleshy dams and blazed down her cheeks, resting just over Emma's shoulder. She held the woman's entire weight in her arms as Emma sagged into her, sobbing heavily now that she had finally gotten through it, finally forced every last word through her gritted teeth and into Regina's ear. The former mayor's heart was on fire and felt as if it were literally melting inside her. She felt raw and whipped and stinging in every inch as Emma's story clawed at her very flesh and at her soul. How could anyone….She swallowed thickly and took in a great, shuddering breath before whispering, "How old were you, Emma?"

The Sheriff didn't answer for a long time, simply crying out all that was within her until she felt she had nothing left. Her eyes were so painfully dry she could hardly see and her throat was a torn and shredded massacre in the wake of her sobs. She forced herself to muster every last ounce of strength she had left and pushed herself onto her feet once more, relieving Regina of her weight, but she never let go of the brunette. She couldn't. She needed Regina in that moment like she needed air, and so she clung to the former mayor tightly, though she pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against Regina's. She closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of Regina's soft breaths fluttering across her face as they rested against one another, forehead to forehead, arms still wrapped around each other. Emma licked her dry and cracked lips and raggedly whispered, "I was twelve."

Emma jumped and yelped in surprise as the two abandoned coffee mugs on the kitchen island suddenly burst, shattering to pieces violently and scattering across the countertop. The Sheriff's eyes instantly shot to Regina's and saw that her usual melted chocolate orbs had been replaced with a bright and glowing purple. Magic crackled on Regina's skin as the woman's nails dug into Emma's arms and her entire body trembled beneath the growing purple sparks decorating her flesh.

Emma cautiously brought her hands up and placed them tenderly on Regina's tear-soaked cheeks. "Regina?" she said slowly, but the woman only stared through her, the brilliant purple glow still devouring her eyes. "Regina, hey," Emma tried again, giving the woman the tiniest of shakes, "just calm down, okay? Come back to me."

The purple in Regina's eyes flickered like the light of a dying bulb and Emma breathed a sigh of relief as specks of chocolate seeped back into the fading purple, and within seconds she was staring into the beautiful brown eyes of the woman who had changed her life, the woman she had fallen for so completely. Her Regina. "Hi," she whispered, smiling sadly at the woman, just as the brunette had spoken to her earlier after the trauma of her nightmare.

A strangled, guttural sob wrenched from Regina's throat and one of the brunette's hands instantly shot up to cover her mouth as tears spilled heavily from her eyes. She reached out and grabbed the blonde and yanked her back into her arms, wrapping so fully around her that she was sure they could melt into a single being. She planted tender, frantic kisses in Emma's golden curls and along her jaw before she pulled back and cupped the blonde's face in her hands. "I will never let anyone hurt you, Emma, _ever_ again," she said, the promise in her voice blasting through Emma's flesh and sinking beautifully into her soul. She knew in that moment as the words danced around inside her that no one, anywhere or at any time, had ever meant a promise more.


	14. Chapter 14: Bluebirds

**Thanks for sticking it out with me through the morbid intensity of the last two chapters, everyone! Now, maybe we can move into acceptance. I hope you all enjoy the coming chapters, and thank you, as always, for your love and support. **

**This chapter is purely Emma and Snow. XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Fourteen: Bluebirds

It was well after midnight when Emma walked through the door of her loft. After their tortured cry-fest, Regina had made them both dinner and then they had spent the evening indulging in nearly two bottles of wine and much to Emma's surprise, ice cream. A delicious, sugary treat was the last thing she had ever expected Regina Mills to pull from the freezer, but god had she been grateful. They both had desperately needed a pick-me-up after all that had happened that day, and so Emma had been beyond thankful for Regina's secret stash of sugar, or Henry's more likely. She had even found herself laughing loudly as she discovered that Regina even eats _ice cream_ as if it were a professionally prepared meal in a five-star restaurant. Back straight, arms poised, small scoops, and frequent napkin dabbing. As ridiculous as it was, though, Emma found it incredibly adorable.

Emma closed the door gently behind her so as not to wake anyone and tiptoed unsteadily toward the stairs. It seemed the wine was finally beginning to take full effect and her head was swimming, her skin buzzing deliciously as the alcohol coursed through her system. Just as she was about to take the first step toward the second floor and her glorious bed that was just waiting for her, a voice rang out in the darkness, causing the Sheriff to jump and nearly shout out in surprise. She spun on the spot and instantly regretted it as the room continued to spin even after her feet were planted solidly and unmoving.

"You came home."

"Mom?" Emma asked through her growing alcoholic haze. She could just make out the silhouette of the pixie-haired woman sitting idly on the couch in the living room, entirely encased in the dark.

"So, I'm 'Mom' again now?" Snow asked quietly, though there wasn't even a hint of bite in her voice. That was how Emma knew that the woman wasn't angry, but rather just upset, probably still reeling over all that had happened that morning.

Emma had only recently fallen into the habit of referring to Snow and Charming as "Mom" and "Dad", respectively, but she knew how much the two enjoyed it. She still struggled with it, though, even after two years, especially when her emotions were running high and frantic like they had been when she had found Snow with her journal. She was slowly growing quite accustomed to the familial terms, though, and truthfully, they meant as much to her as they did to her parents.

The Sheriff sighed heavily and made her way over to the couch and plopped down next to her mother. She didn't want to fight anymore. She was tired. She just wanted to let go and move forward. "What are you doing sitting here in the dark?" she asked the raven-haired woman.

"I couldn't sleep, Emma," Snow told her. "I've felt sick about what happened all day."

"I know," Emma said quietly, "me too."

"I love you, Emma," Snow whispered. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I know," Emma repeated with a sigh before she kicked off her sneaks and her curled her feet up onto the couch and laid down, resting her head in her mother's lap. Snow's hands immediately fell into her golden curls and began to stroke through them lovingly. "I'm sorry that I blew up on you. It's just that I never wanted you to know any of that stuff."

"But why, Emma?" the raven-haired woman asked, tears already slipping down her cheeks as the words she had read in her daughter's poetry book flooded back to her mind. "I'm your mother, and not just your mother, but your friend, too. You're supposed to be able to tell me anything, but instead, you told Regina. Why would you want her to know and not me?"

"It's not that I _wanted _her to know, at least not at first," Emma explained, "but I needed to tell someone. It was time for me to get it out, and Regina…she's dark. She's been through terrible things. She understands. She gets it, like _really _gets it. But you…you're freakin' _Snow White, the fairest of them all_. You're literally like the embodiment of good and pure, and to top all that off, you're also my _mom_. I didn't want you see that I'm not like you. I mean, how am I supposed to tell _you_ of all people that I'm dark, that I'm dark like Regina when I see the way you look at her? You hate her."

"Oh Emma," Snow breathed through her tears as she continued to stroke her daughter's golden locks, "I don't hate Regina."

"I think your fist and her jaw would disagree," the blonde argued.

"Yes, well, we all have our weak moments," her mother told her. "Still, I don't hate her. Regina and I…our past is so complex, but even with everything, I never hated her. Quite the contrary, actually. I love her. I've always loved her, but we just have _so much _history, and as ashamed as I am to say this, Emma, I realized today that I've acted the way I have because it's just always been so much easier to try and hate her, to be angry at her, and to place blame on her. I know I played a big part in ruining Regina's life, but I guess I just never truly _realized _how hurt she was. Or maybe I never wanted to acknowledge that I was partly to blame for the terrible things she did. It was just easier to see her as evil, to see her as heartless, but I know now that I was wrong."

"You really mean that?" Emma asked, turning her head in her mother's lap so that she could look up into Snow's emerald eyes, so like her own.

"Yes," Snow answered solemnly. "When you have been trapped in the same repetitive battle for as long as Regina and I have been, it's so hard to see outside of it, to step outside of the roles you've always played, but what you said to me today…you were right, Emma. Regina has changed, and it's time that I acknowledge it. It's time that I stop blaming her for every little thing, and it's time that I take responsibility for my own actions. You were right about the wardrobe. I really did want to give you your best chance, Emma, but it's true that I never would have agreed to put you in that wardrobe had your father and I never learned of the prophecy. And for that, I'm truly sorry. I'm so sorry for the horrible experiences you had because of it. I'm just…I'm so sorry."

Snow was openly crying now, and Emma felt the woman's tears as they slipped from a dimpled chin and landed in her own golden curls. She reached up a hand, wiped her mother's cheeks, and timidly asked, "Does it change what you think of me, knowing some of the things you know now?"

"No, Emma," Snow said quickly, her voice grave and solemn. "Don't ever think that. Nothing could ever change what I think of you or how I feel about you. You are my daughter and I love you more than anything in this world."

A few tears slipped from Emma's own eyes as she soaked in her mother's words. She sighed and smiled softly at the woman through the darkness and nodded against Snow's lap. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You don't have to thank me, Emma," Snow told her. "I may not always understand what you're going through, but that doesn't mean that I care any less. You should know that no matter what, I will love you and I will support you, and that love and support is always unconditional."

"I love you too," Emma said quietly, curling further into Snow's abdomen as she lay in the woman's lap. They stayed there together in silence for a long while before Emma suddenly began to laugh, her light chuckling filling the air around them.

"What's so funny?" Snow asked, poking playfully at the blonde's sides.

"I just can't believe you punched Regina," Emma said, her laughter growing as the words broke through, and Snow couldn't help but laugh with her.

"I can't believe Regina didn't send me flying across town," Snow answered, "or pummel me with fireballs."

Emma only laughed harder at that. "I mean, not cool on your part," she said, "but that was definitely not something I'd ever expect _Snow White _to do."

"Honey, you really have to let go of this whole 'Snow White' obsession of yours," Snow said, poking at Emma's sides again. "It's just a name, and I'll have you know I was pretty badass back in the Enchanted Forest."

"Did you seriously just say 'badass'?" Emma asked incredulously, still laughing at her mother.

"Yes, because I was," Snow told her.

"Yeah, sure you were," the blonde replied sarcastically, poking her mother back. "You sure you don't just wanna sing me a song now or something? That seems much more your style."

"Do you _want _me to sing you a song?" Snow asked, after sticking her tongue out at the blonde. She loved moments like this when she and Emma fell easily into the friendship they had known before the Curse had broken. It was a friendship she cherished, and even more so now, as it was ever layered with the beauty that they now knew one another as mother and daughter as well.

"I don't know," Emma sighed playfully. "Are all the little bluebirds gonna show up at our windows if you do?"

"Probably," Snow said, smiling brightly at her daughter, "and the deer, and the squirrels, and the rabbits."

"Oh good, it'll be a party then," Emma exclaimed, feigning excitement.

They laughed together for quite a while before the sounds finally died down and they simply sat together in the silence once more, Emma's head still resting in Snow's lap. The Sheriff yawned with her exhaustion as her mother's fingers laced through her golden tresses, and let herself fall toward slumber, but just as she was dozing off, Snow whispered to her through the darkness.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?" Snow asked softly, her voice barely audible, though Emma heard every word, her heart jumping at the question.

She hesitated a long while before deciding to just be honest with the raven-haired woman and hope for the best. "Yes…" she answered just as quietly as her mother had asked.

Snow White let that single word soak into her, absorbing all the power within that one syllable, before she simply sighed into the stillness of the room, and whispered something that Emma truly had not been expecting. "The Savior and the Evil Queen…I suppose you really are a poet after all."

Emma's smile was bright even in the shadows of the quiet open room as she curled further into her mother and welcomed a much-needed sleep.


	15. Chapter 15: The Go-Between

**Just a quick heads-up: The next few chapters (after this one) are very, VERY, poetry-heavy. Enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Fifteen: The Go-Between

"Hey, Henry, wake up," Emma said, shaking her son's shoulder none-too-gently. Henry groaned loudly, pushed her hands away, and threw his covers over his head to hide. "Come on, kid, wake up," the blonde said again, still shaking him, before pulling the covers down and tapping his cheeks.

"Maaaaa, leave me alone!" Henry groaned again, trying to yank the covers back from his mother.

"Henry, seriously, I will throw cold water on you," Emma told him, now tickling his sides much to the boy's annoyance. He squirmed wildly beneath the covers, turning completely horizontal and kicking at his blonde mother. She laughed before diving into the bed and tickling him even harder. Despite his annoyance with her, he couldn't help himself, giggling loudly as she tried desperately to get away but to no avail.

"Okay, okay, I'm up!" he exclaimed, and was relieved when Emma's hands instantly relinquished their hold on him. "Why are we up so early? It's teacher workshop today, so I don't have school, and you're _never _up this early. Grandma always has to get me up for school when I'm here."

"Oh crap, I forgot," Emma said, smiling apologetically at her son. "Sorry, kid. Yeah, I just have some stuff I gotta do today, so I had to be up early."

"Okay, so why am _I _up so early?" he asked her.

"Because, I need your help with something," his mother told him.

"An Operation?!" he asked excitedly, now wide awake and bright-eyed.

"Well, no, not really," Emma told him. "I just need to borrow your house key."

"Seriously?" Henry deadpanned, and Emma nearly laughed aloud at how much the kid looked like Regina in that moment. "That's what you woke me up for?"

Emma bit her lip, nodded, and shrugged apologetically. "Uh, yeah," she said.

"What happened to _your _house key?" he asked her. "And if you haven't noticed, you're already _in _the house, Ma," he added sarcastically, which earned him a smack on the arm.

"No, I meant your house key to Regina's house," she clarified, glaring playfully at her son.

"Why?" Henry asked, his green eyes narrowing at his mother, ever the curious one.

"Just because I need it, kid, come on," Emma pleaded with him, hoping he wouldn't make her provide an explanation. "Oh, but now that I know you don't have school, you can help me out even more. You think you could distract your mom for a while today? Like take her to the stables or to the beach or to Granny's or something?"

Henry continued to stare at her through narrowed eyes as Emma's own emerald eyes continued to plead with him in return. Finally, he sighed, which made him sound so much older than he actually was, and said, "Okay, but only if you promise to tell me later about whatever it is you're planning."

"Totally," Emma said, tousling his air and kissing him on the head. "Thanks, kid."

"You're welcome," he answered, reaching over to the bedside table to grab his small key-ring and pull off the key to his other home. He handed it to her and added, "I'll call Mom after breakfast."

"Awesome!" Emma exclaimed before kissing his head once more and bouncing up from the bed to head for the shower, leaving Henry to only shake his head as he watched her go. When were his mothers just going to admit that they loved each other and get it over with, already?

* * *

Regina darted quickly from the bathroom as her cell phone rang out from her bedside table. She glanced down at the caller ID and a brilliant smile lit her face. She seated herself on the edge of the bed and quickly pressed the button to answer the call.

"Hi Henry," she said happily as she answered, her smile decorating the tone of her voice beautifully.

_"Hey Mom," _Henry replied from the other end.

"What are you doing up so early, dear?" Regina asked him. "It _is _teacher workshop today, isn't it?"

_"Yeah, at least one of you remembered," _he answered, which had the former mayor chuckling lightly at his tone.

"I take it Emma forgot?" she asked.

_"Mmhmm," _he hummed in answer. _"She woke me up at 6 and said she had some stuff she had to get done today."_

"I see," Regina said, now extremely curious as to what the Sheriff had to do that was so important that it had her up so uncharacteristically early. "So, what are your plans for the day? Are you going to spend some time with your grandfather?"

_ "Nah, he's helping Ma at the station today," _Henry told her. _"I was actually thinking that since I'm already up and you're _always_ up this early, we could hang out today or something. I mean, if you don't have plans or anything already."_

Regina's smile could have lit the entire town. She would never grow tired of Henry's restored affection for her. She cherished it deeply. "No, I don't have any plans, dear. I would love to spend the day with you. Did you have anything specific in mind?"

_"Not really," _he told her. _"Maybe we could go to the comic shop or something? Or down to the beach?" _

"That sounds perfect, Henry," the former mayor answered, still unable to wipe the goofy, giddy grin from her face. "What time would you like for me to come and get you?"

_"Whenever," _Henry replied. _"Now is fine if you're ready. I just have to get dressed." _

"Okay, sweetheart. I will be there in about twenty minutes then. Is that alright?"

_"Yup, see you then, Mom," _he said happily before hanging up with a beep.

Regina stared down at the phone in her hand for several long moments, still grinning widely at it, before rising quickly from the bed and making her way back to the bathroom to complete her morning routine before heading out to pick up her son. It was going to be a good day.

* * *

The Sheriff had been doing research all morning, determined to pick exactly the right way to go about her plan, as she waited for Henry to get up and around, eat his breakfast, and call his mother. She then left the loft with her father to head to the station and wait to receive the go-ahead from her son. Her knee bounced nervously under her desk as she glanced at her phone every few seconds, and finally, to both her relief and her increased anxiety, it lit up.

Emma lunged for the phone, knocking a small stack of papers off and into the floor. She ignored the papers and quickly opened the text from her son. As soon as she read Henry's text saying that he had just left the loft with Regina, the blonde shot into action. She threw her keys to David and told him she would be back shortly before sprinting from the station and jumping into her bug, leaving the cruiser to her father in case he needed it. She then set out for the mayoral mansion to set up her surprise for Regina. While it wasn't anything over the top or anything that would take an entire day to set up, it was a surprise she truly hoped the brunette would love; a surprise she truly hoped might change their shared course, might change both of their lives for the better.


	16. Chapter 16: Deep and Ever-Winding

**Quick reminder—As I said in my A/N from the previous chapter, beginning with THIS chapter and for a short while, the writing is going to be very, VERY poetry-heavy. **

**I wrote this chapter to the soundtrack of "****Varúð****" by Sigur Rós. Try it out! Put it on repeat and let it bury you inside the moment. Enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Sixteen: Deep and Ever-Winding

Regina made her way into her home after a long, perfect day with her son. The two of them had been all over Storybrooke—the comic shop, the beach, the stables, and finally Granny's for dinner. The former mayor had cherished every moment, even when Henry groaned and complained about having to brush his horse down and clean out the stall after their trail-ride. They rarely got full days together to indulge in their every whim, well Henry's every whim, and so each opportunity was unique and precious to Regina, and she never took a single one for granted.

As much as Regina loved horses and enjoyed riding, especially with her son, she could smell the stench of the stables wafting up from her skin and hair and was desperate for a hot, relaxing shower before bed. She headed straight for the grand staircase and made her way up to her bedroom. As soon as she stepped into the room, though, she stumbled and halted as her eyes zeroed in on her perfectly made bed and the item that rested atop it, poised perfectly in the center. Her breath hitched in her throat, her hand shooting up to rest atop her twittering heart as she took in the sight of a very familiar notebook with a small white envelope settled atop it.

Emma. Regina's pulse raced at the sight of the notebook and the realization that Emma had slipped into her home and left this gift for her, a gift that served only to ignite the brunette's hope with blazing passion and burn beautifully into her very soul.

Regina slowly lowered herself to the bed and reached for the envelope first. She slowly slipped a finger into the flap to open the seal, her heart pounding so rapidly with her thrill and her anticipation that she had to take a deep and steadying breath just to calm herself. Inside the envelope, she found a letter, and as she unfolded the paper, she was greeted with Emma Swan's familiar scrawling script, and so she began to read:

_Regina,_

_I'm giving you my notebook. This is the same notebook I've been carrying around with me for over a year now, and the same notebook that you've been so curious about. I think you're ready for it now. I think we both are._

_When I first decided to share my poetry with you, you asked me why I chose to share them with _you_ specifically when I hadn't ever shown them to anyone else before. I told you that day that there were many reasons why, and there are. And that's what you will find in this notebook. I hope when you read these poems you will discover all of those reasons in the words and understand exactly why I chose you and why I continue to choose you._

_I told you before that this notebook contains what I consider to be the most important poems I've ever written, and I stand by that. I don't think my heart and soul have ever gone into my writing more than they did with these pieces, so please keep that in mind while you are reading. _

_I started this notebook just over a year ago, and it is now complete, down to the very last page. Please read every piece. It is important that you do. I'm glad that you got to spend today with Henry, because he and I will not be coming to dinner tomorrow night. These next few days are for you, and you alone. I want you to just read, please, and take in every piece because like I said, they are my heart and they are my soul and it's time you see them._

_I've left you another short letter at the end of the notebook, tucked into the back cover. Don't read it ahead of time. You'll spoil it. So go ahead, get started. And when you're ready, come and find me. _

_Always,_

_Emma_

* * *

Regina took the fastest shower of her life, anxious to get back to the notebook Emma left her, the notebook she had wanted to see inside for weeks now. Once she was settled into her pajamas, she quickly climbed into her bed, settled beneath the sheets, and reached for the notebook so that she could begin reading beneath the dim glow of her bedside lamp.

The former mayor's breath instantly caught in her throat as she opened the cover of the notebook, because there, scrawled across the cover page in large, bold, and beautiful lettering, was a single, heart-stopping word—her name. _Regina._ She traced her fingers gently over the lettering, soaking in all that the heading implied. Were these…poems about her? For her? _Oh god, _she thought. Could Emma truly have written poetry _for her_, poetry that she began writing over a year ago?

Regina quickly silenced the swirling echoes of questions now bouncing around inside her mind and inside her heart, and focused. She took a heavy breath before turning the page to reveal the first piece etched into the thin paper, dated at the top for just over a year ago as the blonde had claimed in her letter. Regina swallowed the trembling, growing lump in her throat, and began to read aloud to herself:

"_you are deep_

_and ever-winding,_

_sunlit eyes_

_and beautifully blinding._

_you are textbook_

_cursive, calligraphy_

_and curves,_

_feathered breaths_

_and quivering nerves._

_you are perfectly_

_blended meter and rhyme,_

_strategically suspended_

_in space and time._

_you are the fantasy_

_fragment of a fantasy_

_notion,_

_jet-stream thoughts set_

_slow in motion._

_you are a spineless_

_saga in a hard-back_

_binding,_

_a non-existent memory_

_constantly reminding_

_me of someone i never knew._

_you are a silent_

_note of musical relief,_

_a breath in an inkblot_

_in my novel of grief._

_you are different,_

_a rarity, a chance,_

_a riveting experience_

_in an unintended glance._

_you are a slip_

_of hand on heart-shaped_

_story sheets,_

_a sudden drop of sun_

_on rain-soaked streets._

_you are a wonder,_

_a nearly microscopic_

_spot of imagination,_

_reborn in my heart,_

_a beautiful creation._

_you_

_are a work of art."_

In that moment, Regina was so completely stunned and breathless that her lungs were beginning to scream furiously inside her chest, desperate for air. She finally gasped, taking in the breath her body needed and the tears that had been stinging and dancing atop her eyelids spilled forcefully forth and trailed down her cheeks. Emma had written this about _her_. _Regina Mills, the Evil Queen. _She had referred to the former mayor as "a work of art." Regina had no words. She had no thoughts. She had only the emotions rolling and rocking within her, the emotions that were taking her to places she never dreamed she'd go again, places she believed that perhaps she had never even been before. She simply could not believe that anyone could ever write such things about her, but Emma had. Emma had seen her in a way that no one ever had, that no one else probably ever would.

Regina's heart was a drumming, chaotic mess as her entire body trembled with the many realizations that soaked into her with that one, simple piece, and she ached for more. She needed further confirmation of all that was growing within her mind in that moment, in the wake of that moving, touching, transcending piece written about her and for her. She flipped quickly to the next page, eager to confirm that this was in fact a notebook full of poems for her, and not just any poems…_love _poems. She swiped quickly at her tears and began to read the second piece just as she had the first, her heart still racing like an unbridled horse:

"_I caress these words_

_with tender, tortured soul_

_and teach them to tenderly_

_touch the floating notes_

_that sing in your soft_

_vibrations._

_These words, I envelop_

_in quivering hope that quivers_

_atop my quiet_

_creations,_

_a hope to touch you, touch_

_you with my trembling lips, kiss_

_your timid, beautiful flesh_

_with the salted pores of my fingertips,_

_and wait for you_

_to crash_

_into my decadent dreams._

_These words, I give with full_

_abandon, words in elegant, graceful_

_strides over vibrant, violent, roaring_

_tides and gentle streams_

_to any point,_

_across any distance, wherever_

_your heart has stopped_

_for a sun-kissed_

_breath,_

_where the glimmering canopy_

_has welcomed_

_death_

_on orange and yellow hilltop_

_crests through fields_

_of sweet and waving_

_green._

_These words, I glaze_

_with silent secrets, secrets_

_I have never told, in_

_a hush, in a whisper, to any other_

_living soul, secrets_

_I want_

_to give you, the entirety_

_of my unseen beauty,_

_of my sorrows_

_and shades,_

_my muted heart_

_in warring spades_

_that never offer any rest._

_These words, the lining_

_inside my aching chest,_

_I give in great respect_

_and yearning,_

_across the seams that separate_

_our sleeping souls, to ignite_

_the coals beneath these ashes,_

_and teach them to burn again,_

_so that we may caress,_

_and we may collide,_

_and we may find ourselves_

_inside of each other._

_I give these words like prayer_

_gingerly doused in desperation,_

_and offer all I have_

_to give,_

_these words,_

_like music from the most delicate_

_depths of my spirit's seas,_

_where the black and white_

_of dancing keys_

_give breath to the divinity_

_of what I feel_

_when I am near_

_you."_

Regina clutched her heart fiercely as she read those last lines over and over, tears flooding her cheeks as gentle sobs sang from her throat. Her breath was heavy, but ragged and panting as she swallowed the truth swirling in those beautiful words. _Emma loves me, _she thought, the words dancing wondrously inside her mind as she held tightly to the notebook, afraid that she might wake any minute to find this was all just a beautiful dream.

She ran her fingers over the lines again, letting them spill into her pores, soar through her veins, and beat in her heart once more as she put breathless, whispered voice to the words that had only just hummed as a lullaby inside her head. "She loves me."


	17. Chapter 17: Acoustic Quaking

**I wrote this chapter to the soundtrack of the Piano/Cello (performed by ThePianoGuys) instrumental rendition of "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri. Give it a shot while you read, or you could also try it with "Hoppipolla" by Sigur Rós. Enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Seventeen: Acoustic Quaking

"_I still remember_

_the first breath you took,_

_standing right in front of me,_

_a mere matter of inches_

_away._

_I could feel it,_

_as if it left your lungs_

_and entered mine,_

_giving breath to the battered_

_beat of my trembling_

_heart, like_

_prayer, all cleansing_

_and cool gray,_

_and bursts of color_

_awoke my vision,_

_once so blurred, black,_

_and twisted,_

_and still, I failed to see._

_But then we shifted_

_once the veil had lifted,_

_and you shaded me_

_all light and wonder,_

_wrenched my soul_

_up from under_

_the weight_

_of sorrow,_

_liquid and thrashing,_

_when I was just_

_a minor strum_

_beneath the maker's thumb,_

_a nameless note in_

_your life song, crashing_

_down into choruses_

_and bridges,_

_and wondering if you_

_could feel me._

_That was the day I began_

_writing lyrics,_

_riveting words to dance_

_atop your endless crescendo,_

_all acoustic and quaking_

_and beautiful._

_Your anthem,_

_my daydream,_

_went lightly on heartstrings_

_and changed me._

_It claimed me,_

_and still I am singing along._

_You breathed so gently,_

_all sweet-stroked and born_

_free,_

_and never knew_

_it was for me,_

_all saving,_

_engraving symphonies_

_inside me."_

Regina's tears came so fast and so freely that she could hardly see through the misted haze commanding her chocolate eyes. She clutched her chest, rubbing against the ache that was throbbing in her heart as the magnitude of Emma's love, painted so beautifully within those poetic words, ripped through her, washed over her, sang inside her, and multiplied in her every cell. She was so completely alive with the feeling, so completely riveted by its power, that she felt as if her body could explode with the pressure, could disintegrate inside the tension as it tingled furiously across her flesh and burned deliciously in her every piece and part.

She had never felt more present, more existent, in all her life. It was as if Emma's words and Emma's love had spilled into her veins and cleansed her blood, or drained it entirely only to replace it with the purest, most vibrant essence a single person could contain within, and still it felt too much to harbor. She was trembling with it and could no longer hold it in. She felt she would die if she did.

Regina slammed closed the notebook, having now only read seven pieces, and leapt from her bed. This, she simply could not handle. She could take no more. She had known only darkness for so long, but now light was breaking through her shadows, flooding through her system like a cure for the cancer that had consumed her cells for so many damning years. She felt as if she was teetering dangerously, deliciously, on the precipice of the grandest, most terrifying abyss, and yet she found that every single inch of her, both internally and externally, wanted only to jump. God, she wanted to dive into it. She wanted to rock and roll around in it, and let it fill her so completely that it spilled out from her pores. Even in her fear, she wanted to be devoured by that abyss, by the words in Emma's poetry, by the place in Emma's heart where those words had been born into rhythm and rhyme, and by the nearly painful magnitude of love and desire now pounding so forcefully inside her own chest.

Regina could see the light sparks dancing on her flesh and she dared not use magic as her emotions were a growing, quaking roar inside her and she feared the effects of such on her power. So, instead, she quickly changed out of her pajamas, grabbed Emma's notebook, and took off down the stairs and out of the mansion. The town was still and quiet as she stepped out and into the night, completely bypassing her Mercedes as she didn't trust herself to drive either, and took swiftly to the sidewalk that would lead her the few blocks to Emma's loft.

* * *

Snow was instantly awakened by a loud and heavy pounding on the loft door. She shot up in bed and glanced quickly to her side only to find her husband still passed out on his stomach, snoring loudly—entirely dead to the world. She rolled her eyes at his lack of protective instincts in that moment and slipped quickly from her bed in a hurry to get downstairs and answer the door before the person's incessant pounding woke her grandson.

The raven-haired woman clicked on the lamp at the bottom of the stairs and crossed quickly over to the door. When Snow slid back the lock and pulled open the loft door, however, she was so completely shocked by the sight that greeted her that for a moment, she actually considered the idea that she might still be sleeping and that this was all a strange dream. She even went as far as to pinch her side and when she felt the small shock of pain, her eyes widened substantially. She definitely was not dreaming, and Regina Mills was standing in her open doorway, tears pouring heavily down her cheeks.

"Regina?!" Snow exclaimed as quietly as she could as she took in the puddled mess that was her former step-mother's face. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Where is Emma?" Regina asked raggedly, still clutching the blonde's notebook tightly in her hands and pressed against her chest. She was so shaken in that moment and so completely consumed with the love swirling inside of her that she couldn't even bring herself to feel disdain toward Snow White. She could think of only Emma. All else faded to the background, fizzled, and crumbled into nonexistence.

"She's…uh, she's not here, Regina," Snow answered, stumbling over her words a bit as she tried to wrap her mind around seeing the former mayor this way—so completely vulnerable and unashamedly so it seemed. The raven-haired woman was beginning to wonder if Regina was even aware that she was crying, or if she simply could not help herself in response to whatever had moved her to land at Snow's door well past midnight.

"Where is she, Snow?" Regina asked again, her heart desperately pounding its need to find the Sheriff as quickly as possible.

"I don't know," the raven-haired woman told her, Snow's discomfort obvious as she shifted from foot to foot, unsure of whether or not she should try and comfort the woman before her or simply keep her distance. She opted for the latter as the former had rarely ever been well-received by the brunette. "Regina, what's wrong? Has something happened?"

"I just need to find her," Regina huffed out quickly, her voice itching in her throat beneath the weight of the many joyful and shocking tears that she had cried that night. "I need to find her now. Did she say where she was going?"

"No, just that she needed to be alone for a while to clear her head," Snow told her, and the possibilities instantly began to swim through Regina's mind of where the blonde might be, but two locations in particular struck her, and so she turned quickly on her heels and made to head back into the night. She was halted though by Snow's hand darting forth and latching onto her elbow.

"Regina, is Emma okay? Are _you _okay?" Snow asked, her heart racing uncomfortably in her chest as countless fears and worries sprang to the forefront of her mind. "I ask because, Regina…you're crying."

As soon as the words left Snow's mouth, fresh tears spilled from chocolate eyes and over dark lashes. Regina clutched the notebook tighter to her chest and locked gazes with her former nemesis, latching onto those emerald eyes so like her beloved Sheriff's, and shakily whispered to the woman. "She loves me."

Snow's eyes instantly softened and a small smile stretched her lips. _Of course, _she thought as those three simple words granted her clarity. She squeezed Regina's elbow affectionately in that moment, moved by the sheer awe and reverence decorating the woman's dark gaze, and all for her daughter. "I know," she whispered in return, her heart swelling as she saw the Regina she once had known, the young woman so full of life and hope and love flooding beautifully through those misted chocolate eyes and shining out at her.

They stared at one another for several long moments, only Regina's gentle gasps for air filtering through the silence around them. Finally, Snow nodded at the woman, and released her tender hold on Regina's elbow. She reached up and wiped at a few stray tears that had managed to find their way down her own fair cheeks and smiled brightly as she whispered, "Go."

Regina needed no further encouragement and simply nodded at the raven-haired woman, a smile of her own now decorating her tear-moistened lips, before she turned quickly and raced from the building, back into the quiet Storybrooke night.

* * *

Regina went first to the secluded clearing in the woods, hoping that perhaps she would find Emma there as she had the day that this crazy, beautiful journey had first begun, settled in the grass and leaning heavily against the trunk of a tree, scratching feverishly away in a notebook. She made her way quickly down the overgrown dirt path through the woods, her heart pounding once more as her anticipation grew. However, when she stepped into the clearing, which was fully and beautifully awash in the brilliant glow of the moon overhead, she found that the Sheriff was nowhere in sight. She was alone in the meadow's stillness, her heart only aching deeper, harder, stronger for the blonde as fresh tears slipped from her eyes. She let out a heavy, disappointed sigh before quickly turning away from the clearing and heading back toward the twinkling streetlights of her beloved town.

She headed next for the beach, the place where she had stood atop the docks on several occasions and watched the blonde Sheriff, settled into the sand, scratch away in her notebooks or simply stare out into the sparkling waters of the cold ocean, dreams and memories dancing in those emerald eyes. As she drew nearer the docks, she took in the beauty of the sandy beach and the dark waters shimmering and shining beneath the glow of the moon, and that was when she saw her. Regina's breath hitched in her throat as the moon bathed golden curls in a halo of pale light and Emma sat atop the sands, shoes off and feet buried beneath the soft grains. Her shining locks blew gently in the breeze as she stared into the distance, her eyes devouring the dark waves as they lapped a gentle lullaby against the beach.

Regina clutched Emma's notebook tightly to her chest and took a deep and steadying breath. Her heart drummed out the rhythm of a screaming love song as she took in the beauty of the blonde in that moment, every cell in her body alive and on fire and reaching for the woman in the distance. This was it, she thought, and her feet carried her forward, closing the distance between where she now stood and all that she had always been on her own, to the woman who had spilled into her and irrevocably altered her life, the woman she sincerely hoped might be her future.


	18. Chapter 18: When We Collide

**Hello, lovelies! For this chapter, I wrote to the soundtrack of the instrumental version of "The Writer" by Ellie Goulding (the instrumental version only). It's more upbeat than my usual soundtracks, but it seems to be rather fitting for this chapter. Check it out if you like! This is a short chapter, but it had a very specific purpose, and the following chapter will be more elaborate. Hope you all enjoy it! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Eighteen: When We Collide

Regina was now only about fifteen feet or so behind where Emma sat atop the sand, staring out into the night and completely unaware of the woman behind her. The former mayor hadn't made a sound, having slipped off her shoes just before stepping onto the beach to make her way to the Sheriff. Her feet sank silently into the cold, soft sand of the beach and she welcomed the cool relief as it sent shivers up her legs and spine. It was a blessed reprieve from the burning heat of her heart, which had all but melted into a pulsing puddle and was now coursing through her entire body.

_You are a work of art. _

Regina's heart sang as the words of Emma's poetry drifted through her mind and tingled on her flesh. It was in that moment, surrounded by the ocean breeze and standing still beneath the bright glow of the moon, that the brunette realized that it was Emma, the silent woman reverently consuming the night, who was the true work of art. The blonde's words had seeped into her and redefined all that she had known of the Sheriff and all that she had once believed of herself. Emma was both an artist as well as a work of art. She was the true rarity, and Regina was ever in awe of her.

She took heavy, calming breaths, and warred within herself about how best to approach the woman. Should she say something? Should she just grab the blonde and pull her into a crushing embrace? Her body was a vibrating, throbbing mass of desire running loose and liquid through her veins, and as she took in the beauty that was the precious, complex woman before her, she realized that it didn't really matter what she said or what she did. She just had to move. She had to touch her. She had to be with her.

Regina took only a single step further before her voice soared up her throat and pushed through her lips, her body refusing to hold the moment any longer. A single word slipped across her supple lips, adding to the tender melody of the night.

"Emma?"

* * *

_"Emma?"_

The blonde Sheriff jumped at the sudden sound of her name spilling into the gentle quiet of the night around her. Her head whipped around to see none other than Regina Mills standing several feet behind her in the sand with a notebook clutched fiercely to her chest. Emma scrambled quickly to her feet, turning to face the woman, her heart already a chaotic melody in her chest.

Chocolate eyes were wide beneath the moonlight and Emma could just make out the tears tracking Regina's cheeks as they glimmered beneath the pale glow. The blonde's entire body was on full alert, buzzing violently and causing shivers and chills to shoot across her skin in every direction. Her mind was a screaming prayer that those tears were joyful, that those wide chocolate eyes were full of surprise and not fear, and that this woman was standing before her not to reject her but to reciprocate her love; a love that had grown inside Emma so passionately and so reverently over the last two years that she felt it in her every piece, in her every part, both in waking and in dreaming.

She felt it in every breath, and the feeling only grew with each moment she spent with Regina, with every secret that she willingly shared with the brunette. It grew with every simple touch between them, with every smirk and smile that graced Regina's lips. It grew every time that Emma looked upon her son and thought of the woman who had raised him so well, who had taught him to love so freely, and who had given him all that she had always hoped for him to have. It grew with each of the former mayor's sarcastic quips and teasing pokes. It grew with every perfect, precious tear that dropped from those dark lashes. It grew with every family dinner they shared and with every time Henry looked at her with his hands propped on his hips and his eyebrows arched—a perfect miniature of his brunette mother. It grew with every embrace that she shared with the woman. It grew with every moment of understanding afforded her by the former mayor, with the reverent way in which Regina read her poetry, and with the stories, both the beautiful and the tragic, that flowed so perfectly between them. It simply grew. It grew more and more with each passing day and night, and Emma knew it would only continue to grow.

Emma stared deep into those chocolate eyes as she and Regina stood several feet apart, their bare feet digging into the soft sand beneath them. Neither of them moved as a beautiful, delicious tension danced around them, nearly tangible in its magnitude. Her heart was pounding madly against her ribcage and she knew Regina's was doing the same. Their pulses were a rapid melody in the night, an ode to all that they had kept hidden within. She let out a shaky breath, a single word whispering through it.

"Regina…"

* * *

As soon as her name left Emma's lips, the fragile shred of control Regina had managed to keep throughout the evening crumbled entirely. Even the way the Sheriff said her name was too much—as if she were the most precious thing Emma had ever laid eyes on, and with the way those brilliant green orbs locked onto her, she could believe in that moment that perhaps she was. Those dancing emerald flames were overwhelming and Regina dove willingly in, wanting only to be devoured by the heat.

A sob suddenly soared up from the brunette's chest, spilling into the night air, and before she even realized what she was doing, Regina broke the stillness and moved, her feet carrying her forward in a near-sprint. She shot across the last few feet separating her from the blonde, and just as she reached the woman, strong arms encased in red leather sprang forth to welcome her, to latch onto her and pull her into a crushing embrace.

Regina's feet lifted from the ground, grains of soft sand spilling over them like a waterfall as she was enveloped in Emma's arms, the notebook pressed tightly between their melded chests. Their lips crashed together and two hearts exploded in joined chests, the perfect vibrations of a kiss that both had wanted for so long finally rippling through their bodies in a delicious and overwhelming tidal wave of love and desire.

Regina's tears, warm and wet, slid and slipped over Emma's fair cheeks as their mouths melted together and soft whimpering sounds whispered from the brunette's throat. Emma held Regina fiercely as tears of her own sprang forth beneath closed eyelids and spilled through dark blonde lashes. Their lips embraced with passion, with desperation as Regina's hands dug into golden locks and grounded her to reality as she pulled Emma further into her, tasting her future in that one, perfect kiss. In that moment, neither Regina nor Emma had ever felt more alive. They clung to one another as the ocean waves continued their gentle lullaby and the moon shone brightly atop them, a guide in the night for two lovers who had finally found one another, who had finally come home.


	19. Chapter 19: Safe

**I actually wrote this chapter to four different soundtracks. If you like, try them all out or just pick one. Whatever works best for you. I wrote to the soundtrack of "****Sæglópur" by Sigur Rós, "Madness" by Muse, "The Garden" by Mirah, and the instrumental piano version of "Brothers On A Hotel Bed" by Death Cab for Cutie. Maybe one of these will really strike the action of the chapter for you. "Madness" and "The Garden" both work very well with the second half of the chapter. **** Enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Nineteen: Safe

As their lips slowly parted, the two women remained molded together, their bodies crushed into one and Regina's feet still dangling above the sand. Emma held onto her, unable to let her go, unwilling to put her down as they rested their foreheads tenderly together. Their breaths were heavy, ragged—beautiful—as Regina ran her fingers through tangled, golden curls. Her eyes remained closed as she soaked in the perfection of being in Emma's arms, of the body-rocking kiss they had only just shared, though a simple smile stretched her lips as she heard the blonde's light chuckling fill the minute space separating their still-trembling lips.

"I should've known you wouldn't do what I told you to," Emma teased quietly, still chuckling against Regina's mouth. "Not very patient, huh?"

"I love you," Regina whispered breathlessly, her eyes still closed and that simple smile still painting her lips. "I love you," she said again, reveling in the way the words felt, born beautifully in her heart and slipping reverently across her tongue, and her entire body vibrated with the sensation.

Emma's laughter instantly died in her throat as Regina's whispered confession blasted through her with the fiery magnitude of a blazing sun, lighting her up from the inside out. She swallowed heavily as her emerald eyes shot open to focus on the dark lashes just inches from her face and the sweet, ever-present tears still slipping down Regina's cheeks. She felt one of the brunette's slender hands untangle from her hair and slide around her neck to cup her cheek as she continued to stare in awe at the former mayor.

Regina's palm rested against Emma's cheek, her thumb sliding sweetly back and forth through drying tracks of tears, and melted chocolate eyes finally opened to lock fiercely with emerald green. Regina held Emma's gaze as she cupped her face and whispered once more, "I love you, Emma."

With that final reassurance, Emma broke completely. A heavy sob ripped from her throat as the most beautiful smile Regina had ever seen painted Emma's thin, pink lips and fresh tears spilled from her eyes. She was loved. Regina loved her. _Her_. In that moment, Emma didn't feel the taint of her past racing through her veins. She didn't feel broken. She didn't feel unclean and unlovable. No, in that moment, Emma finally, _finally, _felt complete.

She slowly lowered Regina back to the ground, the woman's bare feet digging into the cold sand once more, though they maintained their holds on one another. Their bodies stayed pressed together as Emma cried heavily, her forehead still pressed to Regina's. The former mayor only held the Sheriff tighter, tilting her head to press tender kisses to Emma's tears. The moment was overwhelming for both women, the love that had been building and burning within them now open and spilling into the night—a lighthouse beacon on the edge of the ocean as the melody of the moment sang outward from their mending hearts.

"I love you," Emma said, her words ragged and stunted by her sobs but powerful just the same and they ripped through Regina just as beautifully as the blonde's poetry had. Regina smiled brightly before pressing her lips to Emma's again, tasting the salty moisture of her tears there as well. Their lips slipped along one another's as they continued to clutch each other, both entirely consumed by the synchronized rhythm of their hearts.

When they pulled apart this time, Regina gently pressed her lips to the tip of Emma's nose before slipping a hand between them to clutch onto the notebook still smashed safely between their chests. She used her other hand to lace her fingers through Emma's. Her chocolate eyes twinkled in the moonlight as she smiled again at the blonde and whispered, "Come home with me."

Emma nodded without hesitation and so Regina led her by the hand away from the beach. She slipped her sandy feet into her abandoned shoes once they reached the boardwalk before turning back to Emma and pulling the blonde close. She forced her heart to calm so that she could safely summon her magic, and once she felt secure, she leaned up on the tip of her toes and pressed her lips to Emma's as a swirl of purple smoke engulfed them both.

* * *

When they appeared in the foyer of the former mayor's mansion, Regina reached for the light switch but was thoroughly surprised as Emma grabbed her wrist to stop her. The blonde used her other hand to wrench the notebook from the brunette's grasp and dropped it on the table by the door. She then pressed herself fully to the former mayor, her fair hands slipping down Regina's sides and over her hips as their gazes locked and their breaths mingled together, erratic and shallow.

Regina's body instantly caught fire at the look in Emma's eyes as the blonde's hands ran down her sides and over her hips, her every cell buzzing loudly with her desire. A throbbing, tingling knot gathered and grew at the base of her spine and vibrated in the trembling space, bordering on painful as she ached desperately for the Sheriff's touch. She gasped as Emma's fingers suddenly dug into the flesh at the back of her thighs through her pants and the blonde used the grip to lift her swiftly from the ground. Regina didn't miss a beat, her legs instantly, instinctually, wrapping around Emma's waist and locking into place at the ankles, causing her already throbbing core to collide roughly with the blonde's abdomen.

Lips and teeth and tongues crashed deliciously together as a fever grew between the two women until both were burning out of control. They slammed heavily into the wall at the base of the grand staircase, Regina's back colliding roughly with the cold stone, as Emma walked them toward the stairs, eager to get to the former mayor's bedroom. She took the stairs as quickly and carefully as she could while maintaining her balance beneath the weight of the brunette still wrapped around her. They kissed heavily between panting, ragged breaths and aching, guttural moans as Regina's fingers buried into golden locks, nails digging deliciously into Emma's scalp.

Given both their tragic pasts, especially when it came to sex, it was paramount that they trusted one another, and they did. It was because of this that Regina was able to relinquish her own usual need and desire to have control and willingly hand the reins over to the Sheriff. She let Emma take control because she could sense that the blonde still needed it, at least this time, their first time together. The former mayor didn't care. She knew in that moment that she would give Emma anything, all of herself, in any way that the blonde wished to have her. She had never trusted or loved another as fully, as powerfully as she did Emma, and that was all she needed in that moment. Emma had awoken her soul, had painted her heart anew, and she was beautifully alive and magnificently present within the feeling. She wanted it all, both the give and the take.

When they finally reached the second floor, Emma's thighs were trembling, partly because of the weight and partly because of the throbbing wetness pooling between her legs, the latter only growing as Regina sucked at her bottom lip, nipped at the dimple of her chin, and latched her luscious lips around Emma's earlobe, hot breath spilling into her ear and causing a moan to wrench desperately from her throat. Regina relinquished the grip of one of her hands coiled in golden curls and snapped her fingers. The door of her bedroom flew open and Emma raced them through it, moving steadily forward as their tongues dueled fiercely until the front of her knees smacked into the edge of the bed and sent them tumbling down.

Emma fell heavily atop Regina, the brunette clutching onto her fiercely as their mouths connected once more. The Sheriff quickly broke the kiss, though, and raised her upper body, her hands on either side of Regina's head bracing her as she looked down at the gorgeous woman she loved more than words could truly ever express no matter how she tried. She breathed raggedly as they locked gazes, their eyes seeking reassurance and permission.

"Are you sure you want this, Emma?" Regina asked breathlessly as her body ached for the Sheriff to dive back in. She fought the urge to pull her down, though, because the sudden halt in action on the blonde's part unsettled her. She needed the verbal reassurance that Emma was alright with this, that she was truly ready to take this step with her. She needed the comfort of the only person who had ever managed to break through her walls and settle inside her soul, and she longed only to return that comfort and that respect.

"I want you," Emma answered just as breathlessly, nodding as her voice whispered across Regina's trembling flesh.

"And you have me, love, but do you want _this_, Emma?" Regina asked, lifting a hand to motion between their quivering bodies which unconsciously arched toward one another. "We can wait. I don't want to rush this if you aren't truly ready. I want you to be sure."

"I'm sure," the blonde told her, still hovering over the brunette's body. She leaned down and placed a tender, gentle kiss to Regina's lips and said, "I started that notebook over a year ago, Regina. I think I've waited long enough. I think we both have." She kissed her again, nipping at Regina's bottom lip as she added in a whisper, "I _choose _you. I love you."

With those words, the trembling, painful knot of delicious tension at the base of Regina's spine exploded and spilled through her body. A moan ripped from her lips as her fist shot forward and buried itself in Emma's shirt, pulling the blonde's body back down to mold into hers once more as their mouths collided again and again.

Regina's hands pushed at the edges of Emma's jacket, tugging the red-leather sleeves off of the woman's arms before tossing the garment to the floor. She kicked her shoes off and dug her heels into the mattress, using the leverage to scoot her body higher on the bed, pushing upwards toward the center. Emma followed, crawling up her body and planting wet kisses atop her clothes that soaked through the fabric and teased her flesh. Her body was on fire, every inch of her burning beneath the blonde's weight and mouth. She wanted the woman to devour her entirely so that she could wallow in the ecstasy of the moment forever.

Emma suddenly lifted off of the brunette, her hands flying to the hem of her shirt. She yanked it up, quickly revealing her upper body, and tossed it to the floor to fall in a crumpled heap atop her jacket. Regina drank in the sight of milky flesh that begged for her touch, begged for her attention. Emma's ribbed and muscled abdomen flexed deliciously as she moved, causing the wetness between Regina's legs to double, seeping through the thin strip of her underwear to coat her trembling thighs.

The blonde popped open the button at the top of her jeans before falling over the former mayor once more, slipping two slender hands under the woman's body to lift her. She pulled at the brunette's blouse until Regina's upper body was free of its burden and she soaked in the delectable sight as the woman fell heavily back into the mattress. Regina's smooth, olive skin beckoned her and she followed, her lips planting themselves along the lines of the brunette's stomach, her tongue dipping momentarily into Regina's navel before traveling upward. She licked a long, steady line up the center of Regina's chest, up her smooth, slender neck, and over her chin before she latched onto the woman's lips once more.

They kissed hungrily, feverishly, as hands kneaded exposed flesh and anxious, impatient fingers pushed at remaining clothing, both women desperate to be skin-to-skin, desperate to feel each other fully. Regina pressed her palms to Emma's bra-clad chest and pushed back at the blonde, making just enough room for her to crawl out from under the Sheriff and stand quickly from the bed. Emma's brows furrowed as she turned to the former mayor but understanding quickly dawned on her as Regina's hands shot to buckled clasp at the top of her pants.

Emma quickly stood to join her but the brunette was already gloriously exposed, standing in only her matching crimson-laced bra and panties by the time the blonde was standing beside her. Regina's hands jumped in to join her own and they locked hungry gazes, chocolate and emerald, as their joined hands pushed at the skin-tight material of Emma's jeans until she was finally stepping out of the puddle they made around her feet. Emma wasted no time, her arms folding around Regina, fingers reaching for the clasp of the brunette's bra. She popped it open with a flick before dragging the straps down toned, olive arms and tossing the burden to the floor.

Her breath hitched audibly in her throat as she took in the sight of Regina's fully naked chest, gloriously plump and perky handfuls rising with the woman's heavy breaths and dark, hardened peaks straining outward, eager for her touch. Regina watched the way Emma drank in the sight of her naked chest so reverently and it only made her arousal grow. She snaked forward a hand and clutched onto the blonde's wrist, pulling the woman forward and resting Emma's slender fingers atop her flesh.

When Emma's hands wrapped around Regina's full breasts, the blonde thought she might explode on the spot, the tension that had been building inside her and between them for weeks now throbbing painfully between her legs with every breath and every slide of smooth, delectable skin against skin. "God, you're beautiful," she whispered huskily as she swiped her thumbs over taut nipples and reveled in the way Regina's body responded to the words and to her touch, shivering beneath her hands as those chocolate eyes drank her in, watching her as she touched and worshipped the former mayor's figure.

Regina was now quaking with her need, her knees trembling beneath her weight as she struggled to stay on her feet. She reached quickly around Emma and unclasped the Sheriff's bra before allowing it to fall to the floor with her own. She then grabbed the blonde's hands and pulled her back onto the bed, allowing Emma to crawl atop her as they inched toward the center of the mattress once more.

Emma's head dipped down and her lips latched around a rigid nipple, causing Regina to cry out with the sensation, her fingers twisting into Emma's golden curls, begging the woman to take her further into her mouth, to take more of her. The Sheriff kneaded Regina's other nipple between her fingers before switching to worship it with her tongue as well. Regina's body was trembling so forcefully beneath her that her own body was growing impatient in response. She trailed hot, wet kisses down the brunette's quivering abdomen before tracing her tongue along the lacey edge of crimson panties. She glanced up to find Regina's head lifted off the mattress and chocolate eyes devouring her. The former mayor's subtle nod was all Emma needed and her fingers wrapped around the sides of the material and pulled them slowly down long, smooth, slender legs and dropped them to the floor, and with that, the stunning revelation that was Regina Mills' body lay naked and trembling before her, the apex of her thighs glistening seductively and beckoning the blonde to taste.

Emma didn't hesitate. Regina was ready for her, wanted her desperately, and she refused to make the woman wait. She flattened onto her stomach between the brunette's legs, planting scorching trails of kisses down both thighs as the scent of Regina's exposed arousal flooded through her senses and drove her right to the edge of an orgasm that had been building inside her since the woman had first kissed her on the beach. She clung to the edge as her mouth collided with Regina's core, her tongue swiping up the length of the former mayor's sex. The taste was overwhelming and both Emma and Regina moaned heavily, the sound a growing growl shared between them. Regina was sweet and salty on Emma's tongue and the blonde drank in the delicious combination eagerly, swirling the tip of her tongue around the woman's opening before dipping the muscle in, thrusting into her with only her tongue.

Regina could hardly breathe. Her body writhed in the pleasure of Emma's mouth on her sex, devouring her entirely, pushing her toward the edge, driving her toward oblivion. Her hands fisted in Emma's golden locks and held the blonde firmly in place, her hips bucking up into Emma's mouth of their own accord as desperate moans wrenched feverishly from her throat. God, the woman's mouth was pure magic, and she wanted only more of it, more of the heat, more of the pressure, just more. And then Emma's tongue slipped up her slit to dance circles around the throbbing, hardened bundle of nerves aching for attention before her lips latched around it and the blonde sucked hard and forcefully on the nub.

Regina screamed out into the dense air of the room as she was sucked fully into Emma's mouth, her body now moving desperately against skilled lips, teeth, and tongue. Breath slammed from her lungs as her entire body began to tremble, soaring to the precipice of orgasm. "Oh god, Emma," she moaned, so breathless that the blonde could hardly hear the words. "Don't stop. I'm so close," she ground out through gritted teeth. Her hips continued to pump furiously against Emma's mouth, her body begging for release.

Emma could feel Regina's body trembling, quaking beneath her as her arms locked over the woman's hips to hold her firmly in place. She felt the brunette's thighs flex and clamp around her ears, muffling and muting the sounds emanating from Regina's throat, and just as they tightened around her, Emma sucked hard, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, and with that, Regina rocketed off the edge and into orgasm.

The former mayor screamed out her pleasure as her body froze into sudden stillness with Emma's lips still wrapped around her sex as her orgasm crashed into her heavily. She clung to the vibrations before her hips began to move again, riding out the shockwaves until she finally trembled and collapsed fully into the mattress, her thighs finally releasing their grip around Emma's head.

Sound rushed back to the blonde as her ears were freed from the fleshy hold of Regina's delicious thighs and the Sheriff reveled in the soft, sinfully sexy whimpers emanating from the brunette's throat and chest. She crawled up from between Regina's legs and settled atop her, the woman's wetness rubbing against her lower abdomen and coating the itching, trembling flesh there as her body still ached for her own release. Hazy chocolate eyes locked onto emerald as Emma hovered above the brunette, smiling down at her as she took in the beautiful afterglow now decorating Regina's flesh.

Regina returned Emma's smile lazily before reaching up a shaky hand to pull the woman's lips down to hers. As they kissed, Regina tasted herself on the Sheriff's tongue and was surprised to feel her body ignite once more and so quickly after having only just endured a body-rocking release. Her tongue slid languidly over Emma's, reveling in the taste of herself inside the woman's mouth, the woman that had so beautifully claimed her heart. She had never felt more complete in all her life. Every part of her was singing with the sensation.

Emma crawled up Regina's body so that she now sat atop the woman's still-quivering abdomen, her own wetness coating the brunette's stomach through her underwear. She slid her sex slowly back and forth over Regina's stomach, letting the brunette feel her extreme arousal and saw that she was wonderfully successful in enticing her as chocolate eyes darkened to obsidian and sparkled at her promisingly. Regina's back shot from the mattress as she lifted herself into a sitting position, Emma poised in her lap. She wrapped the blonde's legs around her waist and crashed their lips together once more as her fingers gripped into soft hips, pulling them back and forth so that Emma's sex rocked against her abdomen and the blonde moaned loudly with the sensation.

"Fuck, Regina, I want you," Emma moaned into the brunette's ear as she bit into the woman's earlobe before lapping at the soft flesh with her tongue to soothe the sting. Her nails traced a fiery trail down Regina's back as she clung to the woman, her hips following Regina's command and pumping forward into waiting flesh. Regina snapped her fingers and Emma's soaked underwear disappeared before the blonde felt Regina's slender fingers slip down her abdomen and dance across the sensitive, aching skin between her legs. "Oh god, yes. Touch me," she moaned, her core now drenched and yearning for Regina's touch.

Regina's eyes rolled back in her head as Emma's words washed through her and the gushing evidence of the blonde's arousal washed over her fingertips. She pressed harder, exerting pressure with her fingers as she slid them up and down over Emma's soaking slit before poising at the blonde's throbbing entrance. Emma's nails bit into the flesh of her back as Regina slowly pushed the tips of two fingers into the blonde's opening, the Sheriff's moans vibrating heavily in her ears and making her own core ache once more.

She thrust softly with only the tips of her fingers until her hand was coated so heavily that she knew Emma's body would offer no resistance and so she buried two fingers in the woman's sex, up to the hilt. She froze once fully inside to allow the blonde's inner folds to adjust to the sudden invasion before she began to pump her fingers, up and down, back and forth, reveling in the way Emma's hips rode her hand with blatant abandon. She pushed inward as deeply as her fingers would allow, moaning as Emma's inner walls clutched greedily around her, before curling back on the down-stroke to graze the ribbed, hidden patch of flesh that she knew would drive the blonde over the edge.

Emma bucked frantically into Regina's hand as the woman's skilled strokes brought her to the edge of orgasm. She buried her face in Regina's sweat-slicked neck and bit into the salty flesh there, sucking it into her mouth as she moaned her pleasure, and just as she released her biting hold on Regina's neck, the brunette's thumb swiped across the straining bundle of nerves at the top of her sex and Emma went spiraling headlong into orgasm.

Regina wrapped her free arm tightly around Emma's middle as the blonde quaked in her arms, moaning throatily against her neck as a blissful orgasm took her. As the final waves of her orgasm flowed through her, Emma's body quivered and calmed, falling limp into Regina's arms as she sat in a heap atop the woman's lap. Regina kissed Emma's trembling shoulder, tasting the salty sweat that lingered on the blonde's skin as she slowly extracted her fingers from Emma's still-pulsing sex. Once her fingers were free, Regina wrapped both arms tightly around the blonde and held her there, both their breaths heavy and ragged as they clung to one another.

Emma's face remained buried in the crook of Regina's neck and after several long moments, the brunette began to feel hot, wet droplets splash against the flesh of her neck and shoulder. Emma was crying. Regina wrapped her hands gently around the blonde's shoulders and tenderly pushed her back so that she could look into misted emerald eyes. When their gazes locked, Regina lifted a hand to wipe away the trails of tears that painted Emma's fair cheeks as her heart clenched heavily inside her chest. Had she done something wrong? Had they moved too quickly? Her fears began to throb inside her and she whispered, "Emma, what is it? Why are you crying, dear? Have I done something?"

The Sheriff's heart melted at the sound of the insecurity in Regina's voice and she quickly shook her head to reassure the woman. She leaned forward and planted a chaste, tear-moistened kiss on Regina's lips before whispering, "No, it's just that I…" The words stuck in her throat as a sob threatened to escape. She swallowed it down as Regina's brows furrowed and the brunette prompted her.

"You what? Tell me," she pleaded with the blonde.

Emma sighed heavily, releasing a shuddering breath as she cried her answer with a trembling shrug of her shoulders. "It's just that I feel so safe with you."

Regina's heart exploded beautifully in her chest and tears instantly pooled in her chocolate eyes. She pulled Emma's face down to meet hers and rested their foreheads gently together as she whispered, "Oh Emma, you _are_ safe with me." She brought their lips together in a tender kiss, translating all of her love and adoration for the blonde in that simple press of supple flesh. "You are always safe with me."


	20. Chapter 20: Loving and Languid

Chapter Twenty: Loving and Languid

Emma woke to a stinging sensation in her arm. She made to move it but the limb was held down by an unfamiliar weight, and so emerald eyes fluttered quickly open only to be met with a halo of chocolate hair fanned across her shoulder and tickling at her chin. Her lips instantly stretched into a beautiful smile as the memory of the previous night flooded through her. She tilted her head down and to the right, burying her nose in Regina's hair and breathing in the scent of the woman as the former mayor slept atop her chest with an arm wrapped tightly around her midsection. Emma's arm was crushed beneath Regina's head, shoulder, and side, and as much as it stung after several hours of being in that position, she couldn't bring herself to move it. She just wanted to absorb the moment. She wanted to drown in it. It was the happiest she could ever remember feeling.

The Sheriff blinked her eyes several times as she turned to face the light streaming through the large balcony doors across from Regina's massive bed. The sun was shining brightly and she could hear birds chirping just beyond the glass. It was a beautiful day. And that was when realization hit her.

"Shit!" she exclaimed loudly as she jumped beneath Regina's weight, moving quickly to get out from under the woman. Regina was instantly jolted awake, and her sleep-hazed mind had her sitting up with nearly preternatural speed in response to Emma's seeming panic, a fireball blazing to life in her palm as she blinked furiously to rid her bleary chocolate eyes of sleep. Emma jumped again at the sight of the fireball suddenly blazing hotly in Regina's hand and only inches from her exposed flesh. She yelped as her surprise sent her tumbling out of the bed, her naked body tangling awkwardly in the sheets and causing her to land half on the floor, half on the bed with her legs shooting upward so that only her feet were visible to the brunette.

Regina quickly came to her senses as the haze of sleep cleared and realization dawned on her. She crawled over to the side of the bed were Emma's bare feet were poking up at her and leaned over the side to peer down at the flustered blonde. A wide smile stretched her lips as she quickly doused the fireball in her hand and rested her chest on one of Emma's ankles, chuckling loudly as she took in the sight of her naked lover tangled in the sheets and breathing heavily on the floor.

When Regina's sleep-tousled head appeared over the side of the bed, an adorable yet wicked grin stretching her lips, Emma rolled her eyes and shot a playful glare at the woman. "What the hell, Regina? A fireball, really?" she growled teasingly as she fought to untangle herself and get up from the floor.

"You really shouldn't surprise me, dear," Regina answered, still chuckling lightly as she reached for Emma's hand to help her stand.

"Well, sorry, _dear_," the Sheriff said dryly. "My surprises have never been answered with a fist full of fire before."

"Ah, yes, one of the many joys of sleeping with the Evil Queen," Regina teased, smirking as she took in the glorious sight of a nude Emma Swan and her body began to buzz deliciously.

Emma snorted gracelessly as she finally managed to get to her feet and quickly crossed the room to find her discarded jeans. "I didn't mean to surprise you. I just realized that we fell asleep, and Henry…I forgot to call Snow. I don't even know what time it is." She finally found her jeans and rummaged through her pockets till she found her cell phone. She quickly clicked it on to call her mother but saw that she already had a waiting text message from the raven-haired woman. She pressed to open the message and scanned it quickly:

_Emma, I hope Regina found you. I am guessing she did since you never returned home last night. Don't worry about Henry. He is riding to school with me, and I told him you would pick him up this afternoon. Your father is going to work at the station today. I told him you might need the day to yourself. I thought perhaps you and Regina would like to spend the day together and work some things out. Please text me and let me know you are safe. I love you. XO-Mom_

The blonde sighed with relief before quickly typing out a text to let her mother know that she was indeed okay and thank her for clearing the day for her, before tossing her phone back onto the pile of clothes in the floor. "Everything alright?" Regina asked, to which Emma nodded. The blonde then turned to her and asked, "Care to tell me why my mother was wondering if you 'found' me last night?"

Regina's cheeks instantly pinked as she said, "I may have shown up at the loft last night looking for you."

Emma only laughed and said, "Oh? And Snow didn't try to punch you again?"

Regina scowled and said, "Of course not. I think she knows better than to push her luck more than once, dear." Emma only laughed harder at that, nodding in agreement. "She actually encouraged me to go and find you," Regina added, her voice quite telling in how surprised she had been by the raven-haired woman's words the previous night.

The Sheriff grinned brightly at that and happily said, "She has her moments," to which Regina only nodded and sighed, whispering, "That she does."

Emma then grinned mischievously at the brunette which instantly had Regina on edge but before the former mayor could react to the telling look, Emma was diving unceremoniously back into the bed. She tackled the brunette woman heavily, to which Regina only yelped and scrambled to get away. Emma then thoroughly surprised the former mayor by dropping her slender hands to Regina's sides and tickling her relentlessly. She laughed loudly as the brunette squealed and wriggled beneath her, desperately trying to get away.

"Emma, stop!" Regina commanded, still slapping at the woman's hands. "Do _not…_make me…" She tried to talk through the gasps of air she managed to take between her squeals and bursts of laughter as Emma's vicious hands continued to attack her sides. Finally, she just screamed a single word to get her point across. "FIREBALL!"

The Sheriff instantly backed off, throwing her hands up in surrender, though an endearingly devious grin still painted the woman's lips as she continued to laugh beautifully at the brunette. Regina huffed out an annoyed sigh that was half a growl as she quickly grabbed one of her pillows and smacked the blonde right in the face with it. Emma only laughed harder and Regina could not help but to join in with her. She had never in her life felt so carefree, so unburdened, and she was beautifully alive with the feeling. Emma made her feel youthful and adventurous and everything she thought she had long ago lost.

Emma grabbed the pillow from Regina and tucked it down into her lap as she settled into a sitting position and smiled at her lover. "Bet no one's ever tickled the Evil Queen and gotten away with it before, huh?"

Regina rolled her eyes at the woman and sighed dramatically. "You are such a child sometimes," she said, scoffing at the blonde, though Emma could see the mirth in those chocolate eyes and knew that Regina was only teasing her.

"Ah, yes, one of the many joys of sleeping with the Savior," Emma said in response, doing her best to imitate the former mayor before smirking wickedly at the brunette and laughing with her joy in the moment. She was so happy she thought she surely might burst any minute.

Regina just laughed at the mimicry and asked, "Since when are you so energetic in the morning?"

Emma smiled brightly before crawling across the space separating her from the brunette. She climbed into Regina's lap, straddling her. Both women's bodies instantly blazed to life, aching with a delicious tension as their naked flesh slid together and created a maddening friction that had both of them on edge within seconds. Emma planted kisses in Regina's chocolate hair between her words as she answered. "Since I woke up fully satisfied and next to you."

"Oh, is that so?" Regina asked playfully as she drank in the sight of Emma's naked chest, her hands digging into the blonde's hips. She planted her own kisses along Emma's collarbone as the Sheriff's hands trailed down her spine.

"Mmhmm," Emma moaned in answer and her hips unconsciously bucked forward and into Regina's abdomen as the former mayor suddenly bit down on the pulse point at the base of her neck.

All conversation halted, both women's teasing quips dying in the moment as Emma's already soaking sex pressed against Regina's stomach and both women groaned with the feeling. Their mouths found each other, lips latching together and tongues slipping inside to greet each other, dancing and dueling and feeding their arousal. Emma rocked against Regina, her body already begging for release as the air heated and thickened around them. God, she would never get enough of this, of Regina. She wanted all of the woman, and she wanted her forever. There wasn't even a doubt in her mind. Her heart held the answer for her, and it was screaming in her cells in that moment, tingling on her flesh, and driving her onward.

Regina's desire was throbbing fiercely between her legs as Emma's arousal coated her stomach and fueled her need. She kissed the blonde hungrily as they moaned into one other, their breaths already ragged and panting. She had never known such desire, such intense passion. It was overwhelming. God, it was fucking perfect.

Regina planted hot, wet kisses across Emma's chest before grabbing onto the blonde's right leg and pulling it from her waist. She slipped Emma's right leg beneath her left and within seconds was lowering the Sheriff's scorching, soaking sex to meet her own. Breath slammed from both their lungs, spilling through their lips as they moaned in unison, clutching onto one another before their bodies began a needy rocking, their pulsing cores slipping and sliding together, grinding into one another.

Neither woman spoke a word, both too breathless. Throaty moans and desperate whimpers spilled into the minute space between them as they rode each other, the growing heat and wetness between their legs only fueling their need as they panted. Nails dug into sweat-slicked skin as their cores ground together, driving them both to a heated, blissful orgasm. Emma rocketed over the edge first, her jaw dropping in a silent scream of ecstasy as her orgasm ripped through her. Regina felt the rush of fluids spill into her sex from Emma's own and the sensation had her quickly following the blonde into oblivion. They rode out the delicious shockwaves of their orgasms together, before falling limp into one another, both panting and trembling in the aftermath of bliss.

Regina's forehead fell against Emma's neck as the blonde wrapped her arms around the former mayor and held Regina against her chest, still heaving with her rapid breaths. Both women's breathing evened out after several long moments of simply holding one another, their dripping cores still pressed together, and Regina lifted her head to capture the blonde's lips. Their kiss was loving and languid and communicated so much more than words would allow them. Emma then separated their lips to plant kisses along Regina's cheek and temple before finally settling her mouth over the shell of the brunette's ear and whispering, "Good morning, Regina."

The former mayor smiled against the fair flesh of Emma's chest as her forehead fell forward to rest against the blonde's shoulder. Her heart felt so full in that moment that it was aching. "Yes it is," she whispered against the slick skin, chuckling lightly as her hands squeezed Emma's hips affectionately.

After a while, they both slipped from their positions, their legs trembling with the effort until they were once again lying side by side and beneath the sheets. They faced each other, their fingers laced together in the space between their naked bodies. "You are late for work, dear," Regina said with a smirk as they drank each other in, chocolate eyes devouring emerald.

Emma only smiled and shook her head against the mattress. "I'm all yours for the day," she said, her smile only growing as she watched Regina's eyes light up with the response.

"Wonderful," Regina said happily, "because I have plenty of reading to do, and who better to help than the woman who wrote the words?" Emma laughed beautifully and lifted a naked arm to run her fingers through chocolate locks. The light spilling through the balcony doors shone brightly on the fair flesh, capturing Regina's attention. Chocolate eyes shot to the inside of Emma's wrist where a long, white, vertical line was etched into the flesh, and her hand instantly shot forward to wrap around the Sheriff's arm.

Regina's heart clenched fiercely in her chest as she took in the sight of the scar before her gaze locked with Emma's once more and a sad smile painted the blonde's lips in response. A single tear dropped from a chocolate eye as Regina brought the scarred wrist to her mouth and pressed her supple lips to the faint, white line. She kissed it tenderly, before whispering against the flesh. "I love you."

Emma sighed and ran her thumb reverently over Regina's cheek. "I love you too, Regina," she whispered. "I always have."


	21. Chapter 21: The Best I Have Ever Written

**Well, my friends, sadly we have reached the end of this story, as this will be the final chapter. I want to say thank you to everyone for your follows and favorites of What Lies Beneath, and for your many wonderful, touching, and heartfelt reviews. I truly cannot express how much they mean to me. There is a lot of poetry in this final chapter, and a letter; so, the chapter is fairly long. I wrote to the soundtrack of "Crash Into Me" by Dave Matthews Band. Check it out if you like. **

**I hope you all are satisfied with the ending. Follow me on Twitter, if you like. (at Chrmdpoet). Enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Twenty-One: The Best I Have Ever Written

"_There is a brilliant yearning_

_inside my soul_

_that echoes through my days,_

_leaving breathless trails on my flesh,_

_and in the moments when I am at my best,_

_I let the feeling take me higher._

_Pixelated images of you screaming_

_through my head, become clearer_

_with every breath,_

_spilling fragments of light through_

_the sapphires_

_and emeralds inside my eyes,_

_until I am running reels in my shining_

_gaze for all the world to see,_

_of the way my heart begins to beat_

_when your fingers grace_

_my skin,_

_frantic, staggered, heavy, quick,_

_as drops of you stop_

_to stick_

_to me, until I am painted with your touch,_

_melting into liquid fire, trembling sighs,_

_and a deliciously desperate ache_

_ripples down my spine and pools_

_between my thighs._

_I can't quite put the feeling_

_to paper, though for countless days,_

_I have tried,_

_to depict through words a perfect_

_image of the chaos_

_you stir inside_

_me._

_The best I can give_

_are mere traces of passion_

_that hardly graze the surface_

_of the pounding in my chest,_

_so I collect the words,_

_I capture the dreams,_

_and put them to rest_

_softly atop your lips,_

_and hope that someday, they might soar,_

_and know that even_

_across the greatest distance,_

_I am standing on your fingertips,_

_just to feel your touch,_

_just to know you_

_that much_

_more."_

Regina sighed heavily, tears slipping down her cheeks as she finished reading the piece aloud. She tilted her head to the side and rested it in the crook of Emma's neck as they sat side-by-side in Regina's bed, still naked and still curled up in the sheets. They had been at this for nearly four hours now, going through the blonde's notebook piece by piece, and every single one had had Regina's cheeks decorated in tears. Little conversation took place between pieces as no explanation was ever needed. Emma's love was written beautifully in the words, along with her desire and her need, and each exquisite emotion translated perfectly to the brunette; so instead of conversation, Regina simply peppered the Sheriff with wet kisses after each poem and whispered her own love in return.

It was nearly one o'clock in the afternoon, and so Emma had only about two hours left before she needed to leave to pick Henry up from school, but she found she simply did not want to move. It was as if she and Regina had created their own little world that day, cocooned inside the brunette's sheets and surrounded only by the beauty of the tender connection that danced around them, all that they became when they were together—so much more than either had ever been when they were apart. Emma cherished every second of it.

Her fingertips danced lovingly over the inside of Regina's open palm as it rested atop her lap, the brunette's other hand braced atop the notebook settled on her lifted knees. Their backs were braced against the headboard and steaming cups of coffee rested on the small tables on both sides of the bed, which Regina magically refilled or reheated every so often. The domesticity of it all was not lost on either of the two women, but neither was rattled by it. Rather, they absorbed it greedily, hungrily, as if it were the only thing either had ever truly desired in life, and perhaps in a sense, it was. Regina had spent her entire life looking for love, grieving for it, and yearning for it, while Emma had spent her life aching only to find place where she felt she truly belonged, desperate for acceptance and for family. Both now reveled in having finally found their heart's truest desires inside of one another, in the comfort of each other's embrace. It was as if they had been lovers for years, for lifetimes long before their own. It was astounding in its magnitude—the overwhelming feeling of completion found in love and in understanding.

"You wrote this only five days ago," Regina said quietly, running her free hand over the words she had only just read.

"Yeah," Emma said, nodding against the top of the brunette's head as they curled further into one another. "I think there are only two poems left, actually. The last one I wrote just before I left the notebook here for you."

"Well, I don't know how you expect me to concentrate on the final two pieces after that last one," Regina said, sighing.

"What do you mean?" Emma asked, chuckling.

"Oh, let me see," Regina said dryly, running her finger back over the poem on the page before clearing her throat dramatically and repeating a specific portion of the piece. "Oh, yes, here it is: _until I am painted with your touch, melting into liquid fire, trembling sighs, and a deliciously desperate ache ripples down my spine and pools between my thighs. _How am I supposed to concentrate after _that?_ You realize that this is _at least_ the tenth piece we have read that referenced something sexual, don't you?"

Emma laughed loudly as Regina poked at her sides. "Well, what do you expect, woman? You look damn _good_!" she said laughing as she wriggled beneath Regina's tickling pokes and touches before pulling the brunette's face up by the chin and latching onto her lips. The kiss wasn't desperate. It wasn't hungry. It was slow, loving, and perfect in its comfort and simplicity.

Regina sighed into the kiss and smiled against the Sheriff's lips. "Thank you, dear. You look 'damn good' as well," she whispered teasingly, to which Emma only chuckled and shook her head.

"Come on, let's get through these last two pieces before it's time to get Henry from school," the blonde told her. Regina sighed dramatically again and nodded her head, pressing her lips to Emma's once more before turning back to the notebook. She flipped the page quickly and began to read the next piece aloud as Emma stroked slender fingers through her chocolate locks:

"_Somewhere in my dying chamber,_

_there's a pulse outside my own_

_that beats in time with my ragged drum_

_and plays peace into my shambled home._

_There's a fire burning up my soul_

_that turns my breath to ash._

_I inhale the ache, let it quake in my bones,_

_and pray it doesn't pass._

_Every time you call my name,_

_a chill sets to my spine_

_to set my needs and roaring dreams_

_to flame and ice combined._

_Comfort is a foreign concept_

_to which I cannot relate,_

_though perhaps I've found some semblance_

_of it in this trembling, racing state_

_of desire that I share_

_with your vibrant force of wonder_

_that cradles my endless thoughts of despair;_

_and where my heart has been torn asunder,_

_you somehow close the gap._

_So in the moments when you're looking at me,_

_and I'm not looking back,_

_I still can feel the warmth and be_

_beautifully ignited by it,_

_however long it lasts."_

Emma planted tender kisses in chocolate locks as Regina finished the final lines of the piece, loving the way the brunette's sultry voice settled atop her skin like a warm blanket, washing her in the woman's beauty and wonder. She had never felt so gloriously alive than when in Regina's presence, than when wrapped around her and holding tight. She had finally found her place.

Regina slowly lifted her hand from the notebook to wipe at the few stray tears that had reached her chin. She exhaled an easy breath, and reverently whispered, "You are so talented, Emma."

Emma's heart swelled with pride as the words blasted into her and warmed her from the inside out. She let out a shuddering breath as tears of her own slipped through her dark blonde lashes and said, "I think you make me better."

"No, dear, it is you who makes _me _better," the former mayor told her, turning and tilting her head so that she could look into the emerald eyes of her lover. She lifted her hand and ran a slim finger across Emma's bottom lip. "You make me feel alive again, Emma. You make me feel things I never thought I would ever feel again."

Emma simply couldn't help herself. A wicked grin stretched her lips as she teased, "Geez, Regina, I knew I was good in bed, but I didn't know I was _that _good."

Regina rolled her eyes and leaned up to press a chaste kiss to her lover's lips before saying, "It's a good thing you write poetry, love, because you just ruined a beautiful moment with your mouth."

"Yeah, but I could fix that beautiful moment with my mouth, too," the blonde argued, waggling her eyebrows at the former mayor to which Regina could only laugh and kiss the woman again. "Such a child," she sighed as she turned back to the notebook and flipped to the final page and poem.

"You love me," Emma countered, poking at the brunette's sides.

"Indeed I do, dear," Regina said, sighing as she laid her head atop Emma's shoulder once more, cleared her throat, and began to read the final piece in the notebook dedicated and devoted to her by the blonde:

"_Let me confess_

_inside these silent seconds_

_of synchronized breathing_

_and beating hearts,_

_that I have kept these words_

_hidden deep within my tangled_

_soul, in the most sacred, trembling_

_parts of me; thus,_

_I would like to say, before the moment_

_departs,_

_all the lines that have eluded my pen_

_for years,_

_that have grown still_

_and quiet beneath the weight of my_

_fears and constant questioning,_

_but truth be told, these words_

_are simple. They are not bold,_

_or melodic, or poetic, or ingenious,_

_and though they will not move mountains_

_or impress the world, they paint the connection_

_between us. They light up the girl_

_beneath these tired bones, the quiet girl_

_on a bed of stones, the girl who is always_

_waiting._

_I no longer wish to hold this in,_

_because should the universe crumble_

_and devour us inside its final spin,_

_I would regret you never knowing_

_each and every line, though these words_

_are nothing special. They will not dance_

_or sing atop sweet, subtle notes, all_

_decadent and love-bitten,_

_but I think, perhaps, these little things_

_are the best I have ever written,_

_and all for you._

_So let me confess_

_inside these silent seconds_

_of clarity,_

_that you changed my life._

_A soul-shaking rarity, you_

_colored me new. You_

_dipped me in wonder_

_and altered my view_

_on life and love and all in-between._

_You shed light on all the unseen,_

_and ignited my spirit_

_in the dark, set spark_

_and flame to the tired and tame_

_heart in my rusted cage,_

_and erupted ink onto page after page._

_You._

_You changed my life._

_You saved my soul."_

Tears spilled forth from Regina's eyes as the brunette's heart fluttered wildly inside her chest. "Oh, Emma," she whispered reverently, "this…" She simply could not find the words and she knew, in part, that it was because the words she needed did not exist. Her love in that moment was beyond what any language could ever express.

"I meant it," Emma said quietly, her voice cracking tenderly. "You pulled me out from under all that darkness and that pain, and you made me feel clean again. You made me feel safe and loved and whole. You saved me, Regina, and no amount of poetry could ever tell you how thankful I am for that and for you."

A beautiful, soul-shaking sob escaped Regina's throat as she pulled Emma's mouth to hers. They kissed long and deep, hard and soft—pouring their souls into that simple press of lips, weaving themselves further together, tangling their hearts into perfect rhythm. Their tears mingled and danced across their lips as they kissed, as they clutched onto one another, each the other's light after two separate lifetimes of shadows. When air became a necessity, their lips finally parted and Regina's chocolate eyes absorbed emerald as she whispered, "We saved each other."

They sat there in silence, simply staring into one another as their fingertips lingered over delicate skin, brushing hands and arms and cheeks. It was a wondrous sensation, to discover oneself inside of another, and each was perfectly and beautifully in awe of the revelation. They held onto one another, knowing that if life would ever allow it, they would never let go. Regina shifted to move closer to Emma, and as she did, a small white envelope fell from the back cover of the notebook still in her lap, grabbing her attention. She turned back to the notebook and reached for the envelope, seeing that, as with the first letter she had read from the blonde, her name was scrawled across the thin white paper.

Emma watched as Regina ran her fingers over the envelope before she gently grabbed the brunette's chin and turned the former mayor's head to lock lips with her again. She pressed a tender kiss to Regina's lips before saying, "You should read that alone. I'm going to take a shower while you read, if that's alright?"

Regina simply nodded and pressed another kiss to her lover's lips before turning back to the envelope. Emma slipped out of the bed and the brunette glanced up, a smile gracing her lips as she took in the deliciously exposed sight of her Sheriff before the blonde disappeared into the bathroom with a click of the door closing. Regina turned the envelope over and over in her hands, her heart pounding as she pondered what she would find inside seeing as how Emma insisted that she read it while she was alone. Finally, she took a deep breath and opened the flap. She pulled out the thick letter, and pressed a hand to her chest, hoping to calm her heart as her eyes began to absorb the scrawling script.

_Regina,_

_ If you're reading this letter, then hopefully that means you followed my rules and have read the entire notebook by now. I hope you liked the poems. They mean more to me than I can say, just as _you _mean more to me than any of those poems could ever really express, though I definitely tried my best. There are some things I want to tell you now, and I hope that they don't scare you off or freak you out, because I know that we are just beginning, or at least I hope that we will be once you finish reading this and come and find me. I hope you feel the same, because I need you. I don't think I've ever needed anyone as much as I need you, and while that scares me, it also comforts me more than I can say. So, please, even if these words overwhelm you, keep reading, because I need for you to know this, all of it._

_ First, I want you to know that I am grateful to you, and I am grateful _for _you. I am grateful for your understanding and for your empathy. I am grateful for the way you listen and the way you never judge. I am grateful for your patience even when I can't keep it together. I am grateful for your comfort and for your tender touches. I am grateful for every embrace, because I have never felt safer or more protected than when you hold me, and that's not easy for me to admit, but it's true. You make me feel so loved and so cherished, and I've never had that before. I am grateful for your past, because even though it was terrible in so many ways, it also made you the strong, complex, understanding, powerful, and truly beautiful woman that you are, and I am grateful that you have shared so much of that past with me. I am grateful to you for casting that Curse, and I know that sounds crazy, but it's true. I know you were in a lot of pain when you cast it, and believe me when I say that I can definitely understand that, but I am grateful for that pain because it helped you to do one of the hardest things you've ever done. I'm grateful because the Curse gave me Henry, it gave _us _Henry, and it gave me you, and Regina, you and Henry are the best things that ever happened to me. You both are the most precious things in my life, so thank you. Thank you for all that you are, because all that you are is beautiful, even if you don't always see it._

_Secondly, if you haven't figured it out yet after reading all these poems, I love you, Regina. I love you like it's the only thing in the world that matters, and I think part of me always has, and I know that I always will. I can't explain it, really, but I will try. I feel like you and I are simply meant to be, and I know that that sounds horribly cliché, but it's true. I don't think I've ever recognized so much of myself in another person before, and I know that while we are very different, we are also very much the same. We both have endured terrible things and we both have done terrible things. We both have yearned for love and we both have been burned horribly by love as well. We both have been abandoned and we both have been betrayed in some of the most awful ways, and yet we both are still standing. I don't think a greater match ever existed, because I think we can be stronger together. I think we can be better together. I think we can be more. I think we can be so much more than we ever dreamed we could be, and I want to take those steps with you. I've never wanted that with another person before, but I want it with you._

_ So, here goes, and read this carefully, because while I know it is probably going to scare the hell out of you, I need to get it out, and you need to know. I love you. I love you more than words can say and more than I can ever express to you. You have reached in and ignited my heart in a way that makes me want to live again. You make me want to start over and truly take it all in this time, and I want to take that journey with you, Regina. I want it all with you. I want to take care of you. I want to be taken care of by you. I want to raise our son together and show him that life can be beautiful and thrilling and all that he could ever hope for it to be. I want to make magic with you (literally), because you're the only person I trust to help me, to teach me, and to protect me. I want to bare my soul to you every day, because you're the only person I trust to find it beautiful even when it's dark and scarred and damaged. I want your pain and your joy, your shadows and your light, your tears and your laughter, your sarcasm and your wit. I want all of you. I want to make dinners with you and go on trips with you and take showers with you and read bedtime stories to Henry with you and make fun of my mom and dad with you (though not to their faces, obviously) and have knock-down, drag-out fights with you and make-up sex with you and go to bed with you and wake up with you and everything in-between with you. I want to share my life with you, Regina. I want to build_ _a life with you. I want to marry you and make babies with you (or adopt, whatever) and have it all with you, anything, everything, as long as it's with you._

_ So, if you don't feel the same way, that's okay. I will always respect your choices, and I hope that we can still be friends. But if you do, Regina…if you do feel the same way, please come and find me. It's okay if you're scared, because I'm scared, too, but I'm waiting for you, and if you are willing to take my hand and take this journey with me, then I promise you, I will dedicate my life to making every second of yours worthwhile. _

_All my love,_

_Emma_

Regina was so overwhelmed she could hardly breathe. Her hand was clutched fiercely to her chest as her head swam with all that she had just read. Was it truly possible that she could mean that much to someone? That someone would want to take such chances with her? That someone as beautiful and as precious as Emma could want to build a life with her, _marry _her, and have a future with her?

Her heart pounded so forcefully in her chest that she could feel her pulse throbbing in her ears. Her cheeks were drenched with her awe and her reverence, with her fear and her joy, with her love and her desire. She was a beautiful mess of a woman in that moment and she simply didn't care. Her head was dizzy as the reality of Emma's letter sank in and a trillion thoughts spiraled through her mind at the speed of light and yet she could not focus on a single one, and did not even attempt to do so. Instead, she threw back the sheets, dropping the letter and notebook with them, and rose shakily to her feet.

She crossed the room in a daze, her feet carrying her forward on only their own command or perhaps by the command of her heart. She lifted a trembling hand to quietly open the door to the bathroom and slipped silently inside. Steam billowed through the room from Emma's scorching shower and blasted a delicious heat across the brunette's body as she slowly made her way toward the fogged shower door. She was thankful for the loud, steady roar of the water as it masked the soft gasps for air emanating from her lips as her tears overwhelmed her.

Regina, already nude, didn't speak or think as pulled open the door to the shower and stepped inside. She didn't care that she had nothing to say or that she was so overwhelmed she thought she might literally explode with all that was wrestling within her in that moment. She just followed her heart, and it led her beneath the burning rain of a showerhead where she slid her arms around the soft, slick, naked waist of the woman who had irrevocably changed her life, and pressed her body firmly against her. She melted into Emma's flesh, her lips finding purchase on the droplet-streaked skin of the Sheriff's back. She kissed tenderly along Emma's spine as the water soaked over them both, washing away their insecurities and leaving them beautifully open and exposed with only their love to cloak them.

Emma's heart melted as she felt Regina's arms wrap around her and those supple lips press to her back. She reveled in the feeling before turning in the brunette's arms and locking gazes with her. They fought to maintain their gaze, their eyelashes fluttering beneath the heavy downpour as they absorbed one another, the tension around them exquisite and beautiful in its physical presence. They spoke volumes with their eyes alone, but it was Regina's next words that sent Emma's heart soaring into oblivion.

"It won't be easy, Emma," she whispered. Both their hearts were pounding madly in their chests as their flesh collided beneath the spray, slipping and sliding together as they held on tightly, fingers running through the rivers on their arms, chests, backs, and cheeks. They explored one another, discovering each other again and again with only their eyes and only their hands. Emma was so alive inside Regina's words because they were words of acceptance, of perfect trust and timid beauty. They told her all she needed to know and all she wanted to hear—that Regina wanted her, all of her, just as profoundly as Emma desired her in return.

"Nothing ever is," Emma told her as she lifted a gentle hand to cup Regina's cheek. She ran a thumb delicately over the brunette's supple bottom lip and added, "But that doesn't mean that it won't be the most worthwhile thing we've ever done."

Regina pressed her lips to Emma's thumb as her tears mingled with the shower's rain and fell gently down her cheeks. She nodded subtly as she looked into those emerald eyes and felt her entire world shift and finally, after decades of darkness, spill forward into the light and snap into focus. For the first time in her life, she could truly see, and her vision swam with only Emma and all that they could be together in this life and perhaps, even, in lifetimes after.

A soft smile stretched the blonde's lips as her own tears fell into the droplets that already lingered on her cheeks. "So, what do you say?" she asked softly. "Take a chance with me, Regina?"

Regina's eyes clenched tightly shut for only a moment as she took a great, shuddering breath. Her entire body was electric with the magnitude of her love and desire in that moment. She raised a shaky hand to tangle her fingers in drenched golden locks and pulled the Sheriff's mouth to her own. She placed a tender kiss to Emma's lips, before resting their foreheads gently together as the heated shower rained down around them and enveloped them in a precious moment, a solitary world entirely their own. Regina looked up through dark, dripping lashes and dove into the sea of green that flooded her lover's eyes and whispered the only word, though simple, that, in that moment, sang beautifully in her heart, so full of hope for a future that promised that neither of them would ever have to be alone again.

"Yes."


End file.
